


All Dogs Go To Hell

by whatUseeintheshadows



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hurt Dean, Violence, minor language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatUseeintheshadows/pseuds/whatUseeintheshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a routine hunt in White Mountains National Forest, Dean and Sam encounter a pack of rogue hellhounds that are butchering tourists that venture too deep off the beaten paths. Now the Winchesters must keep themselves, along with a group of campers, alive; all while Dean battles his inner fears over the creatures that they must hunt down. Set early season four.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Green Skies and Red Rain

Chapter One: Green Skies and Red Rain

Now:  
Dean Winchester stared up at the sky and tried to figure out why it was green instead of blue. The sky was supposed to be blue, wasn’t it? Maybe the fact that the sky was the wrong color was the reason that he was so cold. But people always used the color blue to represent cold, so wouldn’t the sky not being blue make it warm? That made sense, right? Sure. But a green sky, that didn’t make any sense at all. Wait, now it wasn’t just green, it was becoming red. It was strange though. The red seeping into the green sky was accompanied by a strange wet feeling on his forehead and into his eye. Maybe it was raining. A green sky raining red rain. And it was still making him so cold. Maybe if he wiped the red rain off of himself, he could get warm again. He reached up with his right hand and swiped rather clumsily at his face. The wetness didn’t go away, it merely smeared all over and the rubbing motion caused him pain. 

The sharp pain jerked Dean out of the hazy murkiness that his brain had been drowning in. With a gasp, he blinked several times and tried to make sense of his surroundings. Now he became certain that the sky was still blue, but it was being mostly obscured by the dense trees all around him. And it wasn’t raining. The right side of his face was covered in blood. Okay, well that explained the pain. But his head and face weren’t the only places that were hurting. His back and chest felt like they were on fire, his left leg was in agony, and his whole body was cold, a sure sign of shock and/or blood loss. Not his worst day, but certainly not his best.

The real question though was what had happened for him to be in this less than perfect condition. Dean closed his eyes, trying to remember. Running. He’d been running. Running from something. The pounding in his head derailed his thoughts. Damn, but he hurt. 

Dean put his hand up to his head to try and figure out how bad the bleeding was. There was a lump and a gash at his hairline that was pouring out blood and a shallower cut down the side of his face where the blood was sluggishly oozing out. The head wound was pretty bad, but he wouldn’t bleed out. On to the other injuries. Dean gently pressed his fingers over his ribs, checking for breaks. At least one broken and several more fractured or bruised. His breathing wasn’t hindered so he assumed that his lungs weren’t punctured. He had no way to check the reasons that his back hurt, but he prayed it was just bruising and nothing major. He knew back injuries could be serious and that he probably shouldn’t move, but a voice in the back of his head was yelling at him that he couldn’t lay on the ground for too long waiting for help. So he slowly and carefully sat up. As he did so, his left leg screamed at him in protest. Dean closed his eyes against the pain, struggling against the overwhelming urge to lie back down and perhaps pass out. After a moment, when he had himself back under control, the hunter opened his eyes and looked to see what the damage on his leg was like. Damn. His knee was obviously swollen, he could tell even with the joint hidden by his jeans, and the lower part of his leg was positioned at a very odd angle. But the good news was that there weren’t any bones popping through his flesh. So, probably dislocated and fractured but not broken. The bad news was that the lower portion of his leg was bleeding heavily from long, deep, ragged gashes that ran from knee to ankle. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean spat out through clenched teeth. 

Just how the hell was he supposed to get up and get back to the others. Others? Who had he been with? Sam. Sam was definitely with him before, so why wasn’t he here now? Oh, right… he was back at the camp. Camp? Why were they camping? 

It didn’t matter right now. He had to stop the bleeding. Dean struggled out of his leather jacket, and pulled off his dark blue flannel shirt. He then took out his pocket knife and cut the denim pant leg off just above the swollen knee. He’d have to get the damned thing set after he took care of his open bloody wounds. After cutting the denim into long strips, Dean folded his shirt and pressed it against the cuts, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. He then took the strips of cloth and used them to tie the shirt tightly over his wounds. 

When he was done, the injured young man wanted nothing more than to lay back and rest, but that wasn’t an option. Using what little strength he had left, Dean gripped his leg and jerked the bones back into place. This time he couldn’t stop himself from crying out. And he didn’t even try to remain upright. Falling onto his back (which jarred his other injuries and hurt like hell), Dean felt the darkness trying to take over, but he didn’t let it. He was hurt for some reason and if that reason was nearby and he lost consciousness, there was a good chance that he’d never wake up again.

What he needed was a plan. Okay, step one: Don’t die. Step two: try to remember why he was injured and what he was up against. Step three: figure out how the freakin’ hell he was gonna get up and walk outta here.

His gaze fell upon his shot gun, lying just out of reach. If he could scoot over and grab it, he could use it as a means of defense and as a crutch. So, steps one and three were looking attainable. But what about step two? What had happened to him? 

Suddenly, Dean heard a something growling off to his right. He turned but didn’t see anything. The sound got closer, much too close to be hidden by the trees or bushes surrounding him. But still he couldn’t see the creature. That’s when he remembered. 

What little blood he had left drained from his face and he began to shake. Dean prided himself on his fearlessness during hunts, but right now he had to admit that he was terrified. But really, who in his position wouldn’t be. He was alone and severely injured in the middle of an 800,000 acre forest. His brother probably wouldn’t be rushing to his rescue any time soon, and there was no way he’d be able to move very quickly. His best weapon was lying just out of reach, leaving him with just a small knife on the ground near his hand and the pistol that was tucked into the back of his pants and pinned between his body and the forest floor. Oh, and he was being stalked by at least one, and possibly more, of the creatures that he hated the most. The beasts that paralyzed him with fear. The things that had once torn him to pieces and sent his soul to unending torture in Hell. Vicious monsters that couldn’t be seen but were extremely dangerous. Dean was being hunted by hellhounds.


	2. Arrival

Chapter Two: Arrival

Then:  
Dean slowed the Impala down as he approached the park entrance. He made a face as he elbowed his younger brother and pointed at a sign that read ‘White Mountain National Forest: Land of Many Uses’.

“Dude, what do you think those uses are? Hope it’s something fun.” He wagged his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

As predicted, Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. “Really, Dean? We’re here to investigate whatever’s been mutilating hikers and you’re thinking about hooking up?”

Dean just smirked in response. Truthfully, all that was on his mind was the corpses that they had just seen at the coroner’s office. He’d had a hard time staring at the torn-up, partially eaten bodies. They hadn’t been the worst he’d ever seen, far from it, but looking at the claw and bite marks had quite vividly reminded him of when he himself had been reduced to such a state. As he had stared down at the lifeless forms, he had relived the feel of claws and teeth ravaging his body. Even after all the time spent in Hell, his gruesome death was so fresh in his mind that it felt like it had just happened yesterday. He’d somehow managed to keep his cool and act like the professional FBI agent that he’d been pretending to be. Even after leaving the office and getting back into the safety of the Impala, he’d kept his emotions in check. He wasn’t about to fall apart in front of his little brother, especially not since he could tell that seeing the corpses had reminded Sam of the same exact thing that was haunting Dean. So here he was now, joking and pretending that everything was a-okay, while all he wanted to do was call Bobby, tell him to get some other hunter on this case, and drive the hell away from here.

“Dean, you know the FBI story’s never gonna fly here. I’m sure agents have already been out and we’ll seem rather suspect.”

“Dude, I know. Already thought ‘bout it.”

“So, who are we now?”

“Dean and Sam.” At his brother’s confused expression, Dean elaborated. “It’s a public park. There’s hiking, golf, swimming, boating, biking, horseback riding, and tax-free shopping. Land of many uses, dude. We’re just here to try some of them out.”

“And you think they’ll really just tell a couple of tourists what’s been going on?”

“Ever since the so-called wolf attacks started, their popularity’s been dropping into the toilet. I’m sure they’ll give us some info if it’ll help ease our minds and get us to drop some cash in this place.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just… you did your research. I kinda figured you were just surfing porn last night.”

“Who says I can’t do both?” Dean responded before getting out of the car.

He heard Sam follow as he walked towards the trail map that was displayed outside a cabin that was marked ‘office’. The map was similar to one of the ones he’d seen online, but Dean studied it as though for the first time, tracing his finger over the various colored lines and pretending to be deep in thought.

“Can I help you boys?”

And jackpot. Dean turned to see a dark-haired man dressed in a tan park ranger’s uniform. He was about four inches shorter than Dean, but obviously worked out and was definitely trying to show off, if his one-size too small shorts and short-sleeve work-shirt were any indicator. His black sewn-on name tag read ‘Jeff Morgan’.

“Hey, Jeff. Yeah we could use some help.”

“It’s Ranger Morgan.” The man corrected.

“Seriously?” Dean saw the stern look on the man’s face. “Okay… well, Ranger Morgan, I’m just looking for a challenging trail.”

“You boys might want to start off slow. I’d recommend one of the easy trails. This here’s got gentle slopes and takes about an hour. This one is a little longer but leads to amazing waterfalls. If you’re feeling adventurous, this one’s about a three hour hike but it’s got a nice little picnic spot and wonderful views.” Jeff pointed to each trail in turn.

“Wow, that sure is an adventure, Ranger.” Dean exclaimed with poorly faked enthusiasm. 

Sam elbowed him in the ribs. “My brother and I were hoping to take one of the backpacking trails. My friend suggested the Appalachia trail.”

“I wouldn’t recommend that for first timers.”

“Oh, I go hiking all the time.” Dean cut in. “And I just wanted to show my little bro the great outdoors. He’s a college boy and never gets out of the dorms. Thought a little ‘adventure’ would do him some good.”

“Sounds like a wonderful idea.” A female voice behind them spoke up.

The Winchesters turned to see a tall, red-haired woman wearing a dark green uniform similar to Jeff’s. She was a little taller than the park ranger and also appeared to work out. Her long hair was pulled back in a ponytail and a pair of sunglasses rested on the top of her head.

Dean grinned at her. “I thought so, Ranger…”

“Actually, I’m with the forest service.” She extended a hand to the older brother. “Candace Trent. But everyone calls me Candy.”

“Sweet.” Dean remarked, raising a brow.

“Because that’s the first time I’ve ever heard that.” She commented, although her bright smile held no disapproval to his rather lame joke. She then shook Sam’s hand as well. “I’m glad to see you expressing interest in backpacking. It’s a great way to get some exercise while learning to appreciate all the outdoors has to offer. However, I will suggest that due to recent events, you only camp in the designated campgrounds and tenting areas along the way. There are forest service officers stationed at all of them to help keep hikers safe.”

“Yeah, I heard about the deaths in the area. Wolf attacks, right?”

The woman scoffed. “That’s the official story. Every time someone gets killed it’s blamed on wolves. Did you know that wolf attacks on humans are extremely rare and mostly only happen when the animals are provoked?”

“Actually, many cases are due to people taking over their land and wiping out their food supply resulting in them being in near-starving condition.” Dean added.

Candy nodded. “I’m impressed. Now if you look at the victims, they weren’t all people that would pose a threat to a wild animal. And if it were an attack due to starvation, which isn’t likely with the wildlife in these woods, then there wouldn’t have been as much of the remains left behind.”

“So what do you think it really is?” Sam inquired.

“Dogs.”

“Dogs?”

“Yes. This is a beautiful 800,000 acre forest which means that many people use it as their own personal dump site. We find everything from food wrappers to futons left here. And often times, when pet owners end up with a litter of babies that they don’t want, they desert them here. Puppies are often killed by other predators, but if they manage to survive into adulthood, they can be more vicious than any normal wild animal. Feral dogs have killed many people, yet whenever it happens wolves and other wild indigenous animals take the blame and are hunted down needlessly.”

“Officer Trent,” Jeff interrupted. “These boys are here for a good time and certainly don’t want to hear your theories involving these deaths.” He turned to Sam and Dean. “Just stay on well marked trails and in sanctioned camp areas and you’ll be fine.”

Candy rolled her eyes. “Jeff, don’t you have an outhouse to go scrub or something?” Dean tried not to laugh… well, maybe he didn’t try that hard.

Park Ranger Jeff Morgan walked away, mumbling under his breath. Candy shook her head and turned her attention back to the Winchesters. “Look, he may be a conceited, self-important pretend-wilderness expert, but he is right about one thing. Don’t stray off the paths. All the victims had gone off their own way and it didn’t end well for them.”

“No straying. Got it.”

“We’ll stick to the paths.” Sam agreed.

“And make sure you have all the essentials: map, compass, warm clothing, extra food and water, flashlights, fire-starters, first aid kit, whistle, rain and wind gear, pocket knife, tent, and sleeping bags.”

“Yep, be prepared. That’s the boy scout motto.” Dean nodded.

“Something tells me that you were never a boy scout.”

“Very observant.”

“I never did get your names.”

“Dean. And this is my brother Sammy.”

“Sam.” The younger man corrected him.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you both. When you get back, stop on by. I’d love to know what you think of the trails.”

“You got it.” Dean gave her his most charming smile.

“Take care.” And with a wave she turned to walk away, Dean watching her go rather appreciatively.

“Are you going to flirt with every pretty girl we meet here?” Sam asked.

“Hey, it’s one of the many uses of this place.” Dean made his way back over to the Impala. He opened the trunk and pulled out their brand new just-bought-on-the-drive-here fully stocked hiking packs. He handed Sam his and then strapped on his own. Tied to the side of his was a wrapped up shotgun, its shape well concealed.

“So what do you think it is?”

Dean shrugged. “You know, at first I was thinking wendigo, but they wouldn’t leave so many scraps. Often the bodies aren’t even found.”

“It’s not were-wolf.”

“Nope.”

“Black dog?”

“Maybe.”

“Skinwalker?”

“Yeah, that’s a good possibility.”

“What about your girlfriend’s theory of just a feral dog?”

“Dude, when is it ever ‘just a feral dog’?”

“Good point.” They walked in silence for a moment before Sam spoke up. “When did you learn so much about wolves?”

Dean shrugged. “You research werewolves, you learn about the non-supernatural variety too.”

As the walked down the wooded path Sam pulled out their map and studied it. “Okay, the forest service lady was right. None of the attacks took place in the designated hiking or camping areas. Actually, all the victims were more than a few hours off the beaten paths.”

“So, what? We wander around ‘til it tries to eat us and then we gank it?”

“That’s one idea. Or we can look at the map and try to triangulate where their most probable home territory is and surprise them there.”

“Sammy gets the gold star.” Dean announced.

Sam chuckled. After a little while, he turned to Dean and asked “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You’re just… a little off, I guess.”

“Off?”

“Never mind.”

Dean was grateful that his brother dropped the subject. He wasn’t about to admit that hunting some deadly dog-like creature in the woods was making him nervous and a little sick to his stomach. Sam didn’t need to know any of that. Dean would just continue to play it cool until they ganked this creature and then he’d get himself to the closest bar and drink all the memories of fear away. Put that way, it sounded simple enough. What could go wrong?


	3. A Long Day's Hike

Chapter Three: A Long Day’s Hike

“Are we there yet?” 

The Winchesters had been hiking for seven hours and their surroundings never seemed to change, save for the occasional hiker or crappy tourist landmark.

“Dean, I swear to God, if you ask me that one more time…”

“…You’re gonna turn this car around and take us back home?”

“No, I’m going to do this to you the next time we’re on the road.”

“Yeah well, that’s why they have really loud settings on the radio.”

He heard Sam sigh. Well, at least Dean had found an activity to pass the time. And to take his mind off of the disturbing thoughts that had plagued him since they’d taken this job. With that, his mind began to wander back into unpleasant territory. Being pulled from the table as claws ripped his body apart. The agony, the feel of razors cutting his skin and hot blood spilling from his body. Hearing Sam scream his name.

“Dean!”

“Huh? What?” He turned to see his brother looking at him with a rather concerned expression. “I’m standing right here, dude. No need to yell.”

“Then why didn’t you respond the first five times I called your name?”

Dean shrugged, trying to hide his surprise at Sam’s statement. He hadn’t heard any of the younger hunter’s calls but the last. But it wasn’t like he could just tell Sam that. “Didn’t figure you had anything important to say.”

“Nice.” He shot Dean a suspicious look but didn’t pursue that line of questioning, instead turning back to the reason he’d tried to get the other man’s attention in the first place. “Anyway, if we leave this path here and go a few miles east, we’ll reach the spot where Amy Porters’ body was found. We should check it out.” 

“You’re thinking we go there and see if there’s anything left behind that could help us narrow down the suspects.”

“Yeah. Although I’m still thinking probably a skinwalker or black dog.”

“Or Bigfoot.” Dean suggested with a smirk. “Dude might be ganking people that refuse to give him a haircut.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.”

“Actually, I was thinking…” Dean started.

“That’s a first.”

“Shut up. I was thinking that it probably wasn’t a skinwalker.”

“What? Earlier you thought that it was a good possibility.”

“Yeah, but those guys are human part-time. If it was the work of a skinwalker, the guy would have to have some sorta reason to kill these guys, right? And there’s no motive that I could find. I mean, I guess it’s possible that he just likes the thrill of it and all, but it seems a little weird that he’d come out to the middle of no where to get his kicks massacring people he’s never met.”

“Hey, we’ve seen things like that before.”

“I know, it just… it doesn’t seem to fit.”

“So, you’re thinking black dog?”

“I guess.” His voice sounded unsure, even to himself. 

“Well, what else could it be, Dean?”

Dean was silent, lost in memories he wished he could erase. Sam somehow developed mind reading abilities.

“No way, Dean. It doesn’t add up. There’s just no way that all these people made deals. Crossroad demons don’t go through whole families like that and hellhounds don’t off people who aren’t on their list.”

“I know that, Sam. I wasn’t even thinking of that.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

“So, black dogs. What do we know about them?” Dean quickly changed the subject.

“Well, some people consider them merely a death omen while other cultures believe them to be deadly themselves. What we do know for sure is that they definitely can and do kill people, mostly in wooded areas or long deserted stretches of road. Most legends that believe them to be corporeal and not merely ghosts say that silver will kill them.”

“Well, that we’re prepared for.” Dean pulled out his gun and held it up. “Fully loaded and ready to go.”

Sam nodded. “And since silver cam kill skinwalkers as well, I guess we’re set.”

“Don’t black dogs guard certain areas like graveyards or old burial sites?”

“Yeah. I guess it’s possible that there’s some kind of old burial site out here.” Sam conceded. 

“So, I say we skip the sight-seeing tour of places best to find mutilated corpses and skip straight to figuring out where this son of a bitch is coming from. We find its hangout spot and feed it some silver.”

“You really want to rush into this without all the facts? We don’t even know if there’s one of them or a whole pack. We should try to find more information before we go in guns blazing.”

“The body was found weeks ago, Sammy. Not too likely there’ll be anything left behind that’ll help us anyway. Best we take it out quickly before it snacks on some other unsuspecting nature lover.”

“Okay.” Sam still sounded a little unsure.

“Good. So, I figure we got another little bit to go before we step off the trail and head north-east. That seems to be near the center of all the attacks and according to the tourist map there’s some caves in that area.”

“Sounds like a likely spot.” Sam agreed.

“And that’s why I’m in charge.” Dean stated as he picked up his pace. He really wanted to get there before it got dark.

…  
…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…  
…

It was getting difficult to see where they were going and reading the map and compass with a flashlight was a pain in the ass. They still had a few more miles to go and the terrain was getting rougher and rougher. Oh, and it had started to drizzle cold rain an hour before. All in all, Dean was completely miserable.

“Dean, we should stop for the night. Even if we find the caves, it’s probably going to be out hunting by now and we can’t just wander around in the dark hoping to run into it. If we rest now, we can get the drop on it in the morning.”

The older hunter really didn’t want to stop, but his brother was right.

“Fine. Let’s find a clearing and set up camp.”

“We just passed a good spot about ten minutes ago.”

“Not going backwards, Sammy.”

Sam sighed but didn’t argue. Things between them were more than a little tense. Even if it weren’t for all the crap they’d been through since Dean got back and all the lies and secrets, now Sam kept shooting Dean concerned looks while Dean was trying to ignore them and keep up the whole ‘nothing’s bothering me’ act. Man, did this trip suck so far. 

And to top it all off, Dean was hungry as all hell. The stupid protein bars they’d packed were like eating cardboard and didn’t leave him feeling very satisfied. He’d kill for some real food. Something like…

“Hey, do you smell hamburgers?”

“Dean, I don’t think… yeah, actually, I do.”

Dean took a deep breath in through his nose, then pointed right. “This way.”

After walking a few minutes, they came to a clearing occupied by two tents and a dark green canopy. Four young adults that appeared to be in their early twenties were huddled around a grill set up under the canopy. A girl looked up as the brothers approached.

“Hey!” She waved and grinned at them. “You boys shouldn’t be hiking after dark. You could get lost. Or in this weather, catch a cold.”

Dean looked her over. She was wearing a pair of camouflage cargo pants and an olive green tank top. She was of average height and weight and her shoulder length chestnut hair was held back with a bandana. He smiled at her. “You are so right. I was just telling my brother here that we should stop and set up camp.”

“Well, so long as you’re not serial killers you’re free to set up here. There’s plenty of room and we cooked way too many burgers. But we had to use the meat before it went bad.” She shrugged.

“Thanks, sounds great. But do you always invite complete strangers to stay with you?”

“Actually, she does.” A guy stood up to put his arm around her waist. The move was possessive and an obvious statement that they were a couple. His jeans were ripped but in such a way that it was a fashion choice and he wore a store bought football jersey. His dark hair was hidden under a blue baseball cap that had some team’s insignia printed on it. “Kathy is too friendly for her own good. We had another family camp out with us last night.”

“They were turned around and I couldn’t let them get lost out here. They had kids.” She protested. 

The guy shook his head. “You’re impossible sometimes.”

“There are kids out here?” Dean asked.

“Yeah.” Kathy answered. “I gave the parents a copy of our map and they went on their way this morning. They left before we did, so I figure they probably got further than us. They want to make it to a camp area that’s another day’s hike from here. We’re taking it slow. Enjoying the trip and all.”

“Where are you guys headed?” Another girl asked. She was younger than Kathy, perhaps still in her late teens. Her hair was the same color, but much longer and hung in braided pig tails. She wore short denim cut-offs and a pink tank top.

“Probably off to kill some young unsuspecting hikers.” The guy mumbled.

“Behave yourself, Chris.” Kathy scolded.

“We’re just out here for a backpacking trip.” Sam answered. “No real destination.”

“That’s cool.” Kathy smiled at them again. “Come on over and sit down. You can get set up after dinner.” As the Winchesters approached, she began the introductions. “I’m Kathy, this is my boyfriend Chris, my sister Dana, and my brother Josh,” She gestured to the young guy that had kept quiet so far. He appeared to be a year or two older than the others and had spikey blonde hair that was so light it almost appeared to be white. He wore a pair of old battered jeans and a black t-shirt that had a picture of a cartoon zombie on it and proclaimed ‘I’d eat your brains if you had any’. 

“Nice to meet you all. I’m Dean and this is my brother Sam.”

The brothers sat down and Dean accepted the plate of food that Josh handed him. He was thinking about what Kathy had said earlier about a family being out here. He wished that they’d stayed with this group. Dean wanted to be able to protect them if the black dog was out hunting tonight, but without knowing where they were, there was nothing he could do. As he was thinking, he took a bite of the burger.

“Damn this is good.”

“Thanks.” Josh spoke up. “I do all the cooking when we’re out here ‘cause these guys would starve without the invention of the microwave.”

“I’m not that bad!” Kathy protested.

“You burn everything you make.” Dana laughed. “Every time you cook we end up eating takeout food.”

“I’d like to see you do better, Miss I-serve-food-that-is-so-rare-it-could-get-up-and-walk-away.”

Dean watched them going back and forth with the banter. It was almost relaxing. But the knowledge of what was out here camping in the woods with them was enough to keep him on edge.

After dinner, they cleaned up and Dean started to take their rolled up tent out of Sam’s pack. He really didn’t want to have to set it up since the rain had gone from a drizzle to a full on down pour, but he had no assurance that conditions would improve before bed time so he might as well get it over with. Besides, with the weather the way it was, there was a good chance that the others would head off to bed soon. Once everyone was settled in, he’d talk with Sam about a schedule for keeping watch overnight. Dean figured that he’d take first watch. He probably wouldn’t be getting much sleep anyways. 

Dean stepped out into the rain and had just begun to open up their tiny two-man tent when he heard something that made him drop the equipment to the ground and go for his gun. Someone in the not too far distance was screaming.


	4. What You Cannot See

Chapter Four: What You Cannot See

“Can anyone use a gun?” Dean asked the campers. He wanted to run off and help whoever had screamed but there was no way he’d leave these guys alone and unprotected. When all of them shook their heads, eyes wide at the sight of the hunter’s weapon, Dean sighed. “Sam, stay here with them.”

“But Dean, what if you need help?”

“I’ll be fine. But if it finishes up over there and comes here, or if there’s more than one of them, these guys are gonna need you.” With that, the older brother turned and took off towards the direction that he’d heard the screams come from.

As he ran, the screaming started again, but this time it was multiple voices. And some were definitely those of children. Dean picked up his pace. Branches were pushed roughly out of his way, some snapping back to hit him in the face, as he covered the uneven distance in record time; flashlight in one hand, gun in the other. When his foot hit a tree root, he went down to one knee briefly, then sprung back to his feet and continued, heedless of the throbbing pain the fall had caused. 

Dean burst out into a clearing to see a woman shoving a small blonde girl into a tent while an even younger boy with the same hair color stood staring at a man fighting off something Dean could not see with a baseball bat. Not too far from where the fight was taking place, two mutilated bodies lay bleeding out on the forest floor. One look told the experienced hunter that they were dead. Without a moment’s hesitation, he rushed forward, grabbing the small boy and practically throwing him into the tent with his sister. The canvas shelter wouldn’t provide any protection from a black dog, but it would keep the children out of the way and make them easier to protect. 

“Get in there with them!” He yelled to the woman. “Can you use a gun?”

“Yes, but I don’t have one. What’s going on? What’s attacking my husband?”

Dean pulled out his spare pistol and handed it to the woman. “It’s a feral dog. Shoot to kill.”

With that, he stood and rushed to get to the man’s side. His left arm was hanging at his side now, bloody gashes running from elbow to hand. He was still swinging the bat, but Dean didn’t see the black dog. 

“Where is it?” He questioned, gun out in front of him, trying to find a target. 

“I don’t know, man. I know it sounds nuts but I think it’s invisible or something.”

Dean cast a sidelong look at the man. With his khaki pants, blue polo shirt, and wire-rimmed glasses he looked like he wasn’t prepared to be out camping, much less battling supernatural creatures. His face was streaked with blood, likely from him using his injured hand to try and keep his slightly too long light brown hair out of his eyes. Dean was impressed that the man had managed to protect himself and his family for this long.

“It’s not invisible.” Dean corrected him. “But these bitches are dark and quick, good at blending in and launching sneak attacks.”

“Look, I know you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but I couldn’t even see it when it was right in front of me. Not when I hit it or when it clawed my arm. It’s invisible.”

It must just be from shock. Dean thought. Because the only invisible dog-like creature I know of is… no. It can’t be that. Out loud he said “Do you know where it is right now?”

“No, it backed off. I think it’s toying with me.”

“Okay. Let’s go get your family and get out of here. My brother and I are camped not too far from here and the more protection we have the better. I’ll take the lead and…”

Dean never got to finish because suddenly the man was flying backwards, taken down by something the hunter could not see. There was a growl that came from thin air and was echoed by the man’s scream of terror. Dean could see impressions on the guy’s body that were being made by something heavy standing right on him. But still, there was no black dog visible. And now Dean knew that it was not a black dog he had come here to hunt. It was a hellhound. 

Dean Winchester froze. It was partly from shock, partly from fear. And then he was back in that damned room with a huge hideous creature pinning him to the floor, ripping his skin open and tearing at his insides. His inner organs were shredded and he was choking on his own blood, pain consuming all his senses and destroying his sanity. He let out a strangled cry. It was a lot louder than he’d thought it would be. When the scream repeated itself, Dean realized that the sound hadn’t come from him. 

The hunter snapped out of his horrific flashback to see the man on the ground holding the baseball bat over his face with both hands as tooth marks appeared in the wood and it began to break. That gave Dean a target. He aimed right above the bat and fired. Dark blackish blood splattered all over the man’s shirt and face. Dean was reluctant to shoot again, not knowing if the hellhound had moved or not. Then a weight hit him, knocking him back. The creature’s hot breath wafted over his face, the smell nauseating. As the beast made a lunge at Dean, the hunter raised the gun and fired right into where he figured its mouth should be. The weight disappeared from his body as hot liquid rained down on him. Without hesitation, Dean leapt to his feet. He grabbed the other man by the hand and pulled him up. 

“Come on! We have to go! Now!”

“Where is it? Did you kill it?”

“Not with silver bullets I didn’t.”

“You had silver bullets?”

“I thought it would be a black dog, so yeah, I used silver bullets. But they don’t work on these guys. We need to get back to camp. I have iron rounds and salt in my pack, but I left it behind.”

“Uh, okay.” The man was obviously confused but, to his credit, he stopped asking questions and merely followed the guy that had just saved his life.

Dean ran to the tent. “C’mon, we gotta move. I injured it, but it’ll be back at us soon.”

The blonde woman poked her head out of the tent and nodded. “Should we bring any supplies with us?” 

“Nothing that will slow you down.”

“Okay.” A moment later she stepped out. She pulled a denim jacket over her red v-neck shirt and put on a small pack all without releasing the pistol Dean had given her. “Kids, let’s go. We need to move fast before the bad doggy comes back.” 

The little girl Dean had seen before followed her mom out of the tent. Her pink jeans and white Little Mermaid t-shirt were damp from being out in the rain earlier. She looked to be around eight or nine years old and even though she seemed terrified, she still gave Dean a shy smile. Next came the small, probably six-year old boy. He had his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his dark green cargo pants and was visibly shaking. His gray Lilo and Stitch shirt was completely soaked but Dean figured that the boy’s tremors were more from fear than the cold. He took one look at the gun in Dean’s hand and apparently decided that he was the best protector available because he attached himself to the hunter’s leg. Before Dean could comment, the little blonde girl exited the tent again, this time wearing purple jeans and a black Beauty and the Beast t-shirt. It took Dean a moment to realize that she was actually a different, although identical, child. 

“I’ll take the lead, you bring up the rear.” He told the woman before turning to her injured husband. “You and the kids stay between us. Let’s go.” Dean went to move but the boy wouldn’t let go. Looking down at him, the young man forced a smile. “Hey, buddy, you gotta let go now. I’m gonna get you somewhere safe, but I can’t walk with you holding on.”

“Can you carry me?” He asked quietly.

“I have to have my hands free to fight back the bad dogs.” Dean started to explain, but when he heard an angry growl come from across the clearing he scooped up the child and yelled. “Run!”

After making sure the others were following, Dean took off back towards their camp. He shielded the child as best he could from the branches and thorny vines, while keeping his gun at the ready just in case the hellhound caught up with them. The hellhound… No. He was not gonna think about that. Not now. This family needed him and he’d already froze up once. Not gonna happen again.

Dean glanced behind him and saw that the father was holding one daughter while the mother carried the other. Good, they’d make better time that way. And they’d need all the speed they could get. Until he could get the right kind of ammo their best option was to put as much distance between themselves and the beasts as possible. 

It seemed to take forever, but Dean finally saw the tents and canopy come into view. As soon as he was close enough, the hunter yelled to his brother. 

“Sam! Get the iron bullets and salt shells out! Silver’s no good. And get the salt ready!”

Luckily, Sam didn’t hesitate to follow orders or question his brother. As Dean reached the younger Winchester, he had a gun thrust into his hand. Sam had quickly torn through their pack for the requested items and after prepping one for Dean, he was now readying a weapon for himself. 

Dean tried to put the little boy down, but he couldn’t pry the small arms from around his neck without hurting the kid. So instead he continued to hold the child with his left arm while he turned to point the gun back the way they’d come from. The rest of the family arrived and joined the four campers that were huddled under the canopy. Sam and Dean aimed their weapons at the trees and waited. Nothing happened. After a moment, the taller hunter broke the silence.

“Dean, what’s going on?”

“Hellhounds.”

“What?”

“We gotta get a salt circle up.”

“It’s still raining a little and the ground’s wet.”

“Then we get everyone in the tents and make a perimeter of salt inside.”

“That should work. The guys set up our tent so there should be enough room.”

“Get them safe. I’ll stay here and watch your backs.”

“No way Dean. I’m not going to let those things get you…” The word ‘again’ remained unspoken.

“Not up for debate, Sam. Get them safe.”

“Dean…”

“Now!”

Dean faced the child in his arms. “Hey, kiddo, what’s your name?”

“Ryan.”

“Well Ryan, I need you to help me out, okay?”

“Okay, but I’m scared.”

“I know. And it’s okay. But I need you to go with my brother now. He’ll get you in one of the tents and make sure the dogs can’t get in.”

“Are you coming?”

“I’ve gotta stay out here until I know everyone is safe, okay?”

“Are you a police like my mommy?”

Great. Dean thought. Chick’s a cop. Just what I need. “Not exactly.” 

“Oh, wow! You’re a superhero, aren’t you? Like Batman.”

Before Dean could answer, Sam spoke up. “Yeah, he is. And he needs to fight the bad guys right now and doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Okay. I’ll go in the tent.” Ryan agreed, still somewhat reluctant.

Once his hands were free, Dean held the gun out in front of himself and took a few steps away from the others. He’d leave Sam the fun task of trying to explain the situation to the campers. Hopefully they’d follow his orders even if they didn’t believe what was going on. 

After a few minutes with no further attacks, Dean felt some of the tension leave his body. But it was quickly replaced by fear. Damn it, why did it have to be hellhounds? Of all the hundreds of creatures out there, why did he have to run into these things now? And so soon after… No, not going there. He had to stay alert. 

Suddenly he heard a rustling in the bushes to his right. Dean swung his weapon in that direction and aimed. A low growl was getting slowly closer to where the hunter stood. He was about to take a shot when he heard a second growl from the left. Oh, crap! There was more than one of them. And from the sound of it, the hellhounds were trying to surround him.


	5. Surviving the First Night

Chapter Five: Surviving the First Night

Dean’s heart was beating way too rapidly and his breaths were quick and shallow. If he didn’t get control of himself soon he was going to have a full on panic attack and would certainly end up as puppy chow. Of course, that thought did nothing for his frame of mind. And speaking of his frame of mind, what the hell was wrong with him? He was Dean freakin’ Winchester. He’s known about the supernatural since before he’d started kindergarten. He’s been trained to kill all sorts of creatures and had been hunting them since before he was even a teenager. He’s battled wendigos, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, demons, and all manner of horrors without batting an eye. And this, this was no different. Just more monsters begging to be put down. No need to worry and certainly no need to panic. Because Dean Winchester did not panic. Except, of course, that he was panicking. And he knew exactly why. This wasn’t just another random hunt. These things had ripped him to pieces and sent his soul straight to Hell; do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars. His last encounter had been the most violent and painful experience of his life (outside of Hell, of course) and he was terrified of facing them again. But if he didn’t stand up to them and gank their flea-bitten hides, then everyone here would face the same gruesome death that he’d been subjected to. And that was not gonna happen on his watch.

“Come and get it, you fugly bastards.” Dean meant for it to come out as defiant and brave but his voice betrayed his state of mind and his statement was merely a strangled whisper. 

The growl to his right was close now and the hunter saw a dark liquid drop appear and fall to the ground. This must be the one he’d wounded. And it had no clue that its prey could now kill it. Dean aimed his gun at just above where the beast’s blood had appeared and pulled the trigger three times. Blackish blood exploded all over and Dean heard a thud as its body hit the ground. The one to his left let out an almost mournful howl and then, if the sound of its paws on the muddy ground and the prints left behind were any indication, it charged at the hunter. Dean unloaded the rest of the ammo in its direction and was satisfied upon hearing a pained yelp. When dark blood poured out all over the ground, he knew it was dead. 

“Ha!” Dean exclaimed, slightly giddy from his victory over the hated monsters. “That’ll teach ya to mess with Dean Winchester, you sick sons of bitches!”

His celebration was cut shot by the sounds of several more howls coming from the woods. Terror once again replaced the exhilaration he’d been feeling as he reached into his pocket for another clip. But of course he didn’t have more since Sam had been the one to load the weapon. He was well and truly screwed. 

Suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder. Dean spun around, ready to go down fighting, only to come face to face with his brother. He immediately felt stupid. Of course it was Sam. After all, it wasn’t as if hellhounds had hands to go around grabbing people with. 

“Sam, I’m outta ammo.”

“C’mon Dean! Let’s go.”

This time it was Dean’s turn to follow his brother without question. Sure they’d been having trust issues lately, but Dean knew that Sammy still had his back in a fight. The younger man led him over to the canopy. Around the perimeter, under the canvas to keep it dry, was a thick circle of salt. Safety at last. The brothers stepped over the line and turned back the way they’d come from. Dean was relieved to see that everyone else had made it into the tents. He heard one of the hellhounds growling right at the edge of the salt line, but the barrier worked. After a moment the creature lost interest and walked off. The footprints it left behind led to the tents, but it must’ve sensed the same protection there, because it didn’t stay long. Dean heard one of the little girls crying and the parents quietly trying to comfort their children. The elder brother prayed that they’d stay put as he searched through the bag for more iron rounds. But by the time his gun was once again loaded, there was no sign of the hellhounds. 

The brothers sat in silence for a few minutes before Sam spoke up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“They didn’t get you, did they?” 

Dean pushed his brother’s hands off of him as the younger Winchester tried to pull open his jacket to check for injuries. 

“Dude, get off me. I’m fine. One of them knocked me to the ground but it didn’t get a chance to do any damage. We gotta check on that guy with the kids, though. It tore up his arm pretty good.”

“Yeah, I know. I gave them the first aid kit and Josh said he could help. Says he learned some basic first aid stuff at summer camps.”

“Good. That’s good.” Dean felt the effects of the adrenaline leaving his body. Now all he wanted to do was put his head down and go to sleep. That wasn’t even an option, of course. Even with the salt circles it would be safest if someone stayed up to keep watch. Besides, Dean highly doubted that his dreams would be particularly pleasant. So instead he dropped down into a sitting position and scrubbed his hands over his face. Bad move since it only succeeded in further concerning his brother.

“Dean, are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should go into the tent and get some rest. Our tent is protected too.”

“I’m fine.” Dean insisted.

“No, you’re not. And no one can blame you if you’re having a hard time with this.”

“Sam, for the love of… will you please just shut up!”

“Dean…”

Dean was saved from having to strangle his younger brother when Josh stepped out of one of the tents holding the first aid kit and some bloody towels. After exiting, he turned and zipped the flaps shut. He then walked over to the two hunters, carefully stepping over the salt lines.

“How is he?” Dean asked.

“Paul? He’ll live. We’ll just have to keep an eye out for infection but since they are claw marks and not bites he should be okay. I’ll clean it out again tomorrow. Then we should hike the hell outta here and get him to a hospital just to be sure.” He paused for a moment. “We will be able to leave tomorrow, right? I mean, these dog things that the guy said attacked him, are they nocturnal?”

“Nope.” Dean replied. “You’ll all be safest if you stay put until we can put them down.”

“What are they? And don’t say wolves because wolves aren’t chased off by salt.”

“Unless they’re watching their blood pressure.” Dean amended.

Josh stared at for a moment and then let out a short laugh. “Seriously though, what’s out there?”

Dean exchanged a look with Sam, who merely shrugged. There really was no sense in lying now. If they didn’t tell everyone the truth, there was a chance that they wouldn’t take the precautions seriously and would end up dead. 

“Look, we’ll tell everyone what’s going on in the morning. These things will stay away so long as we stay inside the salted areas.”

“You can’t even give me a sneak preview?”

“Trust me, it won’t help your ability to sleep tonight.”

“But you are safe here.” Sam added. 

“Okay.” Josh agreed reluctantly. “But you guys are spilling it first thing in the morning.”

“Promise.” Sam nodded.

The young man walked over to the opposite tent from where he’d come and got inside. Dean was pleased to see him be careful of the salted perimeter. Unfortunately he was once more left alone with his concerned, well-meaning, and very annoying brother. And there was no way he was gonna give the younger man a chance to restart the conversation that Dean wished he’d never started in the first place.

“So Sam, you want first watch or should I take it?”

Sam looked like he wanted to say something else entirely, but a look of defeat crossed his features and he instead answered the question. “I’ll take first.”

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. You’re the one who just fought off… those creatures. You should rest first.”

Dean shrugged, not bothering to argue for fear that it would once again begin the whole ‘Dean are you okay?’ crap. With a sigh he stood up, grabbed his pack, and walked towards the tiny two man tent. The hunter climbed inside, cautiously avoiding the salt, and closed up the canvas shelter. Dean tucked his gun under the thin pillow and then unwrapped his shotgun. He quickly loaded it with salt shells. Not bothering to remove his boots, Dean got himself inside of one of the sleeping bags but he didn’t zip it, just in case he needed to get up in a hurry. He pulled the shotgun close to his chest and held it as a child would a stuffed animal. Dean then closed his eyes and eventually drifted off into an uneasy dream-filled slumber where he was repeatedly torn to shreds by hellhounds while he listened to his brother and innocent people screaming in agony as they faced the same fate.

…  
…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…  
…

The rest of the night had passed quietly enough. The rain had stopped before Dean had begun his watch and now, as the sun began to rise, the hunter was just finishing up making a large salt circle around the entire clearing. They were running dangerously low on the condiment and Dean prayed that one of the campers had brought some along with their provisions. He’d spent the last few hours trying to come up with some sort of plan to get everyone out of the forest alive. He didn’t trust to try and hike out with everyone. While it had been uneventful since the previous night, he didn’t believe for a second that the hellhounds had just wandered off. Those bastards were nothing if not persistent. Which brought up the question of what exactly it was that they were after in the first place. 

Dean knew full well what the job of the hellhounds was. They came to call when a demon deal was up and collected the payment in a terrible way. But it just wasn’t possible that all of these people had made deals. The idea that a whole bunch of deal makers would all be related or become friends and spouses, then come hiking in these woods ten years later just as it was time to die was ridiculous. Besides, none of the kids were even alive ten years ago and the first group of campers they’d met would’ve been just little kids themselves at the time. It was possible that the hounds had shown up for just one person, but while they would kill anyone who got in between them and their prey, they weren’t known to stick around afterwards. He’d ask these people anyways during his explanation, but he doubted that that was the case. So the question remained: what the hell was going on?

Dean still had no answers when the others started to get up. First came Sam, and he’d no sooner helped himself to a cup of the coffee that the older Winchester had made when one of the other tents opened up. Kathy stepped out first, followed very closely by her boyfriend. Chris openly scowled at Dean, and the hunter knew immediately that he was going to be a problem. Josh and Dana came out next. All four campers were dressed in the same clothes as the night before and none looked well rested. They all followed Sam’s example and soon they were all drinking warm cups of caffeine. Without a word, Josh started making some bacon and eggs for breakfast. Dean was thrilled that these guys had brought some real food with them. Protein bars for breakfast just didn’t do it for him. Just as the food was finished, the family of five got out of their tent and wandered over. Ryan, obviously not forgetting his hero-worshipping from the night before, quickly took a seat in Dean’s lap. The parents sat down with a girl each in their laps.

“I suppose introductions are in order.” The mother announced as she was handed a plate of food. “I’m Officer Nicki Davids, this is my husband Paul and our kids Stacy, Susan, and Ryan.”

“What kind of officer?” Dana asked. “Are you here because of what’s going on?”

“I’m with the Waterville Valley Police department. And no, we’re just here on vacation. I wouldn’t bring my family along on a dangerous job.”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question.” Dana smiled sheepishly.

Just like the previous night, Kathy made the introductions for their group. “I’m Kathy Wells, this is my older brother Josh, my little sister Dana, and my boyfriend Chris.”

“I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean.” 

“Are you with the forest service?” Paul asked.

“No.” Sam replied. 

“Then what are you doing out here? And why are you armed?” Nicki inquired.

“And why did you have silver and iron bullets?” Paul added.

“We’re hunters.” Dean explained.

Chris scoffed. “You don’t go hunting with handguns or bizarre ammo like that.”

“Depends on what you’re hunting.” Dean responded.

“What’s going on here? Because that thing that attacked me was invisible and didn’t die when you shot it point blank.” Paul looked as though he was unsure if he really wanted an answer, but knew that he needed one.

“Are you sure you want us to tell you everything right now?” Dean glanced down at the boy seated in his lap.

Nicki caught on, but nodded her head. “They already know that some invisible dog tried to kill their father. At this point there’s not much left to hide from them.”

“Besides,” Paul interjected. “Right now I’m more concerned with keeping them alive than beating around the bush to try and avoid scaring them further.”

The brothers looked at each other and nodded at the almost the same time. 

“Okay,” Dean began. “This is gonna sound crazy, but here’s what we’re up against.”


	6. Debriefing the Civilians

Chapter Six: Debriefing the Civilians

“The creatures are called hellhounds. They are invisible, vicious, and damned hard to kill. Only thing that’ll put them down is iron or shotgun shells filled with salt.”

Chris laughed. “It’s not really the time for jokes, man.”

“Well, good. ‘Cause I’m not joking.”

The other man studied his face for a moment and, upon realizing that Dean was dead serious, he shook his head in amazement. “Then you’re nuts.”

“We’ve fought these creatures before.” Sam backed up his brother. 

“You’re both nuts, then.”

“You don’t believe us, ask Paul. He got attacked by them last night.”

“It’s true. They were invisible. I mean, it was tearing up my arm and pinning me to the ground and I couldn’t see anything. Then Dean here shot it from just a few inches away and it didn’t die. It chased us all the way back here and I thought we were dead for sure, yet somehow the salt kept it from coming into the tent and finishing us off. I mean, I agree that the idea of a hellhound, whatever that is, sounds crazy, but I say we hear these guys out and trust them. They saved us all last night.”

Dana spoke up in a small voice. “Is it possible that the trauma of being attacked messed with your head or something?”

“Yeah, none of the rest of us saw anything last night.” Kathy agreed. 

“Because they are invisible.” Dean’s voice held more than a little sarcasm. 

“See, he’s crazy.” Chris gestured at Dean.

“If that’s all you’re gonna say, please shut up and let the grown-ups talk.” Dean snapped back. Ryan giggled.

“Are the hell dogs coming back to eat us?” Stacy asked, nervously picking at her Little Mermaid t-shirt.

“We’re safe here.” Dean assured her, his tone going from pissed to comforting.

“How does that work?” Nicki asked.

“They’re demotic.” Dean answered. 

“And salt repels all sorts of demons. They can’t cross the lines and if we were to get it into their blood by shooting them with it, the salt would kill them.” Sam explained.

“You’re buying this crap?” 

“Mommy, he said a bad word.” Susan whispered rather loudly, pointing at Chris.

“I know sweetie, and that was bad of him.” Nicki gave the guy a look that was a clear message to keep his profanities to himself. “But to answer the question, you guys may have been safe here last night, but we were almost killed. First, this couple came running into the clearing where we’d set up camp. The woman was bleeding badly, and then the guy fell to the ground screaming as something invisible tore him to pieces. We called for the woman to come over to us but she just froze. And then… then she was killed too. Paul told me to get the kids safe and he’d watch our backs. It attacked him, then backed off, almost like it was toying with him. And that’s when Dean arrived. He got Ryan in the tent, gave me a gun, and then went to help Paul.”

“When the thing attacked me again, he shot it.” Paul continued the story. “It left me alone to jump him and he shot it again. Then we ran back here, with it at our heels the whole way.”

“That’s just… it’s impossible.” Dana shook her head in denial. “This has to be one of those crappy prank TV shows, right?”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed in a patronizing tone. “And this isn’t really a shotgun but a camera in disguise.”

“Hey, you don’t have to talk to my sister that way, dumbass!” Kathy yelled.

“Look he’s sorry,” Sam cut in before Dean could reply. “But you guys have to stop trying to rationalize this and understand the seriousness of the situation. These hellhounds will kill all of us if we give them a chance.” 

“Why?” Paul asked. “Why are they trying to kill us?”

“We’re not entirely sure.” Sam confessed. “They typically only kill people who have made deals with demons and have sold their souls. Hellhounds come when it’s time to collect.”

“Well, I didn’t make any deals.” Paul insisted.

“Did anyone?” Sam looked around at everyone. They all looked at the brothers wearing expressions of either fear or disbelief, but none looked guilty or remorseful. It was pretty clear that no one had brought this upon them.

“Geez, why would anyone be dumb enough to sell their soul?” Kathy looked shocked.

Dean tried to keep the discomfort he felt from showing. He had to agree that selling his soul was pretty dumb, but since his brother was sitting next to him alive and well, it was a stupid decision that he’d make again in a heartbeat. But he wasn’t about to explain that to these guys.

“There’s no such thing as hellhounds, demons, or even a soul.” Chris spat out, seemingly disgusted by the whole conversation.

“Hey man, just ‘cause you ain’t got a soul doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” Dean told him.

Chris stood up, face red. “You wanna say that to my face?”

“Uh, I just did. We’re sitting like, three feet away from each other.”

“I’m gonna pound your face in, asshole!”

At that, Ryan turned and clung to Dean. “You can’t hurt him, you big bully. He’s a superhero.”

“Everyone calm down.” Sam put his hands up in a placating gesture. “Look, I understand that this is all a lot to take in, but we have to work together if we want to survive. Now, Dean and I have experience with these creatures, so it would be in everyone’s best interest to listen to us.”

“You’ve seen these things before?” Nicki asked.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “We kinda travel around hunting all sorts of creatures. We know what we’re doing.”

“I don’t suppose you have permits for those weapons.”

“Not under my real name.” Dean shrugged.

“If you hadn’t saved my whole family, I’d have to arrest you.” The police woman smiled.

“I still don’t believe a word these jerks are saying.” Chris glared at them.

“I really don’t either.” Dana looked more like she was desperately trying not to believe them so that she could stay in a nice and safe world. She turned to her older siblings.

“I… I don’t know what to believe.” Kathy admitted.

“I think they’re telling the truth.” Josh stated. 

“Really?” Dean asked, surprised. 

“Well, first off, why make any of this up? And secondly, my last apartment was haunted and my roommate was almost killed. If ghosts exist, why not demons, hellhounds, and tooth fairies, right?”

“Nice logic.”

“Thanks.”

“Whether you personally believe us or not, I am asking everyone to please stay inside the salt lines.” Sam addressed the group again.

“Did you kill the one that chased us last night?” Nicki inquired.

“Yeah,” Dean answered. “I ganked two of them, but at least two more are out there. Now, I think the best course of action would be for you to stay here and watch out for everyone while Sam and I try to find where these things’re calling home. It’s not too far from here, according to what we figured out from previous attacks. With any luck, we can have it taken care of within a few hours and be hiking out of here before evening.”

“All you have to do is keep everyone together in this circle and if anything comes sniffing around, shoot it with this.” Sam handed the cop an iron bullet loaded handgun.

“No problem.” 

Dean stood up, lifting up the child that had been sitting on him. 

“I don’t want you to go.” Ryan complained.

“I know. But I’ll be back later. Until then, I need you to stay here and take care of your family. After this is all over, you’ll have earned your place as an honorary superhero, okay?”

“Yeah? Cool!” 

Dean put the boy down and picked up his shotgun. He had his pistol in the back of his waistband and spare ammo for both in his jacket pockets. He looked to Sam who held up his handgun and nodded. They were ready. 

As soon as they were out of the clearing, Sam turned to him. “Hey, why didn’t you just show them the bodies of the hellhounds? I mean, sure they can’t see them but they could’ve touched them.”

“Well, I would’ve but they corpses dissolved or something over night. I went to check on them this morning, but there was nothing but some nasty blackish-red goo. Was all sticky and smelled like crap, but not very convincing to thickheaded civilians.”

They walked in silence for a while before the younger Winchester once again questioned his brother. “Dean, why are we even going out here? I don’t think… I mean, do hellhounds even sleep? Why would they have a den?”

“Dude, just ‘cause I was killed by them doesn’t mean I know anything about them. Forgot to ask all that stuff while they were chewing on my intestines.” Sam’s hurt look stopped his tirade. With a sigh, Dean reigned in his emotions. “Sorry. Look, I don’t think they sleep or anything, but the fact still remains that there is a clear epicenter to their attacks and since we don’t have any other leads, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to check it out.” 

“Makes sense.” There was an uncomfortable pause. “Dean, are you gonna be okay hunting hellhounds? I mean I’d understand if you…”

“What? If I wanted to go back to camp and roast some marshmallows to avoid confronting these things. I’m fine, dude. I killed two last night, didn’t I?”

“I don’t want to lose you again.”

“And you won’t. They’re not after me personally this time. Besides, there’s no evil demon chick to feed me to them, so I got the advantage.”

“I guess so.”

“I know so.” Dean put way more confidence into those three words than he felt. He was scared, but he knew Sam was too and he wasn’t about to unload all his crap onto his little brother. So, he ended that conversation by looking at the map. “We should be close. Maybe another couple hours or so. Hopefully they’ll all be there and we can take them all out at once.”

“That would be nice.” Sam agreed.

“You think those campers’ll stay put ‘til this is over?”

“I think that cop lady will make them.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah. We may get back to find that she had to shoot Chris.”

“Oh and I’m sure you’d be so upset.”

“I would. It would be a terrible waste of perfectly good ammo.”

“You know that antagonizing the people we’re supposed to be saving isn’t always the best idea.”

“Well I thought I could make an exception this time.” 

Sam snorted. “Because you’re usually so well behaved.”

“I am. If it wasn’t for…” The rest of Dean’s sentence was cut off as something heavy crashed into him from behind. The hunter fell to the ground, his head hitting the hard surface with a thud. He blinked rapidly, trying to avoid blacking out, as he felt the heavy weight on top of him pressing him into the forest floor. In the position he was currently in, Dean had no way to fight. He could only pray that Sam killed the hellhound before it ripped him apart.


	7. And Things Get Complicated

Chapter Seven: And Things Get Complicated

Dean closed his eyes, fighting back the terrible waves of fear that were threatening to drown him as he waited for either the hellhound’s claws to tear him up or for a gunshot to remove the creature from his back. But neither scenario took place.

“What the hell? Get off of him!” Sam cried out.

Dean wondered why in the world his brother was attempting to talk with the monster.

“Just shoot it, Sam!”

Suddenly the weight was ripped up and off of Dean. The experienced hunter rolled onto his back and brought up the shotgun, prepared to unload salt rounds into the hellhound’s invisible face. What he wasn’t prepared for was to see his brother manhandling a bulky young man wearing hunters’ camouflage pants, jacket, and baseball cap. The guy took one look at Dean’s shotgun and paled.

“Oh my god! That’s a real gun. Oh god, oh god, please don’t kill me! I thought you were Andy. Please don’t shoot me!”

“Take it easy, man. He’s not gonna shoot you.” Sam then turned to his brother. Dean knew that the expression on his own face contradicted Sam’s last statement. “Dean, don’t shoot him.”

“I wasn’t gonna waste the ammo, Sammy. I was just gonna hit him over the head with this as a thanks for knocking me down.” Dean shrugged as he lowered his gun. He glared at the man who appeared to be around the older Winchester’s age. “Why the hell did you attack me?”

Sam released the guy and he looked between them nervously. 

“I… my friends and I were playing paintball and I was hiding in those bushes and I couldn’t see very well and I thought, I mean I saw your gun but I thought it was a paintball gun and I figured that you were Andy because he’s about your height and so I tackled you.”

“You’re playing paintball and you decided to tackle your opponent? Man, you’re the suckiest paintball player ever.”

“Oh, that… yeah. My gun jammed so I thought that if I took Andy out I could use his gun.”

“Not a bad plan.” Dean approved. His heart had finally gotten back to beating at a normal pace. “What’s your name?”

“Tony. Tony Fettman.”

“Well Tony, just one more question.”

“What’s that?”

“Did you hear about the animal attacks in these woods?”

“Yeah.”

“So let me get this straight. You and your buddies hear that people are getting mauled out here and you think ‘gee, that sounds like a great place to go running around playing kiddy games with no real protection’.”

“Well, I didn’t think it was real.”

“Well, it is. Why do you think I’m carrying this?” Dean lifted up his shotgun.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re hunting illegally or you could be a serial killer or something.”

“So, you think I could be a serial killer and you just tell me your full name and stand out here alone in the woods talking with me?”

Tony once again paled. “You… you’re not a serial killer are you?”

“No, he’s not.” Sam sent Dean a disapproving look. “But there are dangerous creatures out here. Are you camping close by?”

“Uh, no. We hiked out here early this morning. It was a few hours hike.”

The brothers exchanged a look. There was no way that they could leave this guy and his friends out here by themselves.

“Can you get your friends here?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I’ll call them on the radios.” Tony pulled out an old battered walkie-talkie. “Andy, Tracie, Ken… you guys read me?”

A woman’s voice came over the radio. “Tony, what’s up? We’re supposed to be on silence for now. Are you okay?”

“Game’s over, guys.”

“Aw man, why?” A man’s voice whined through the static. 

“Some officials just told me that there are in fact animals killing people out here. We’re in danger, so they say we have to leave.”

“Is this a trap?” the woman asked. “Because it’s against the rules to lure us out in the open if you’re just going to ambush us.”

“No way, Tracie. You know I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Okay, I’m on my way to you, now. Where are you?”

“At point B.”

“Did you get your gun jammed up again?”

“Yeah, but just get back here now.”

“On my way.”

“Me too.” The man’s voice added.

After a pause, Tony spoke again. “Hey, what about you Ken? Ken?”

Suddenly a paint splat appeared first on Tony’s chest and then on Sam’s. Dean turned to the direction the shots came from. 

“Dude, if you hit me with a paintball, I’ll shoot you with what’s in my shotgun and I assure you it’ll hurt a hell of a lot more.”

The bushes rustled and a young man who was only about five-foot-two stepped out. He too was dressed from head to toe in camo gear, but his movements were fluid and he seemed more like a hunter than a kid out playing a game. Dean had a feeling that this guy won every paintball match. 

“Whoa, sorry.”

“Didn’t you get my message?” Tony demanded.

Ken shrugged. “Nope. Turned the radio off. Told you that if we’re hunting each other I wasn’t gonna stay in contact with you guys. That’s just lame. I did see you talking with these two, but I couldn’t hear you guys.”

“These guys are here because the wolf attacks we heard about are actually real.”

Ken looked at the Winchesters. “There’s no way you guys are with the forest service.”

“Nope.” Dean replied. “We’re professionals. We come in when things get out of control.”

“So you going to go around shooting wolves with a shotgun?”

“Something like that.”

Ken looked at them for a moment before turning to his friend. “So, what? We hiking out of here for now then?”

“No.” Sam replied. “We’re going to get you all someplace safe and then…”

A scream interrupted his sentence. It was a male voice crying out in agony as a female’s shrill screech of fear joined in. 

“Stay close!” Dean ordered as he took off towards the cries. It felt very similar to the night before, running towards the people in danger, ready to save their lives. But this time was worse. Because this time he knew what he was running into. 

Up ahead Dean saw a woman, who must be Tracie, frozen with her back to him as she stood staring in front of her. She was wearing the camouflage outfit like her friends and her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail that hung almost to her knees. Dean ran up to her and saw what the woman could not tear her eyes from. A young man was sprawled out on the ground. His camo outfit was in shreds, as was his skin. His intestines trailed out onto the forest floor, which was soaked in blood. The man’s face was gone, now nothing more than tattered flesh and gore. As Dean watched one more set of gashes appeared on the corpse’s chest. 

Dean raised his shot gun and fired. But the hellhound must’ve seen him because it moved and the rock salt hit nothing but trees. Dean looked around for it anxiously. 

“Oh my god!” Tony yelled from behind him.

“Shut up.” Dean snapped. “I need to listen for it.”

The hunter looked around for prints and listened for panting or growls. Nothing. Then he got an idea.

“Ken, I need you to fire that paintball gun.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it!”

“Where?”

“Everywhere. Cover this whole area.”

Ken began to fire. Paint splotches appeared on all the trees and bushes before finally splattering on thin air. The floating yellow paint began to move towards the group, but Dean and Sam were faster. Salt and iron bullets rapid fired into the hellhound. With a yelp it fell. 

“Do it again.” Dean commanded the paintball player. 

Ken did as he was told. This time the paint landed on nothing but visible surfaces.

“Okay. You can stop.”

“What was that?” Tracie had begun to cry hysterically. 

“Hellhounds. And there’s more of them. We’ve gotta move.” Dean gestured for the others to follow him.

“But what about Andy?” Tony was also crying and on the verge of hyperventilating. 

“We have to leave him.” Sam informed them. “There’s nothing we can do for him now. But we have to go. There’s a safe place we can get to but it’s a bit of a hike and we should go there ASAP.”

Dean looked at his watch, and then turned to Sam. “You take them back to camp. I’m going to go find what we set out to find.”

“Are you nuts? You can’t go alone.”

Dean lowered his voice. “Sam, if we both go all the way back and then turn around, we’ll never make it to the spot before dark. Which means another night here. And these things are smart. Salt circles won’t hold them forever.”

“I don’t like it, Dean.”

“I’ll be fine. Just keep them safe. With any luck I’ll be back before dark, completely victorious, and we can hike out of here first thing tomorrow morning.”

Sam looked like he wanted to protest more, but instead he nodded and turned to the others.

“Stay close. And if you hear anything, shoot at it. If you can mark it, I can kill it.”

Dean watched them walk off back the way they’d come. He waited until they were out of sight before consulting his map and compass. He’d have to hurry if he wanted to keep his promise to Sam. He set off at a quick pace, chewing up half the distance in no time. The hunter was just beginning to think that he’d pull the whole thing off with no problems when he heard something moving towards him from behind. He spun around and pointed his shotgun directly at Candy Trent and Ranger Jeff Morgan.

“Jeez!” Dean exclaimed, lowering his weapon.

“What are you doing with that gun?” Candy asked.

“Playing paintball.” Dean tried his best to look innocent.

“You’re real funny.” Jeff said in a tone that indicated he thought Dean’s comment was anything but humorous. 

“Hunting isn’t allowed.” Candy informed him.

“Oh, well, thanks for telling me that. I’ll never do it again.” 

“I’m sure you won’t, since I doubt that you’ll live through this hunting trip.”

“That’s a little dramatic.” Dean commented.

“Let’s just get him back to the office and call the police.” Jeff suggested.

“Actually, I have a better idea.” Candy responded. With that, the forest service officer pulled out a handgun and shot Jeff in the forehead. The park ranger fell to the ground dead. Dean blinked in shock and then stared at Candy as her eyes turned completely black. “I’d rather feed Dean Winchester to the hellhounds.”


	8. Two Battle Fronts

Chapter Eight: Two Battle Fronts

Sam was exhausted and more than a little anxious by the time he got back to camp. Exhausted due to lack of sleep the previous night, a long hike, and the constant questions, cries, and panicking from his newest companions. And anxious because there had been no more attacks since he’d started back, even though he knew that there was at least one, and most likely more, hellhounds left. If they weren’t hunting him then there was a good chance that they were after Dean. Again. Sam had a very hard time concentrating with the ‘death of Dean movie’ set on auto play/repeat in his head. He saw his brother pulled down from the table and torn apart. He clearly heard Dean’s screams of pure agony as his flesh was shredded. He remembered the feel of the lifeless body cradled in his arms. And now he pictured Dean laying in the same condition out here in the woods, with no one to cry over him as other animals helped themselves to his remains. No. He couldn’t lose Dean again, not when he’d just gotten him back. Sure, Dean’s return had caused problems because of Sam’s recent activities with Ruby. But none of that crap mattered more than the fact that things seemed brighter and just more okay since Sam had gotten his big brother back. And if he were to find Dean once again mauled to death by hellhounds, well, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep going on. Sam was pulled from his dark thoughts as he entered the clearing they’d been camping in.

“You’re back!”

“What happened?”

“Did you kill all of them?”

“Who are those people?”

“Where’s Dean?”

Everyone was talking at once and rushing up to him demanding answers. Sam put his hands up as if to ward them off and tried to tell them to wait. No one heard him though, as they repeated their questions over and over, getting steadily lounder. The commotion made Sam’s temper snap.

“Shut up! Everyone just… just shut up. I need a moment.”

The hunter immediately regretted shouting when the young boy began to cry.

“You’re a meanie!” One of the little girls (Sam couldn’t remember which was which) screamed at him. “You shouldn’t make him cry. That’s not nice.”

“Yeah.” The other girl agreed quietly. “I like your brother better.”

“Susan,” Nicki addressed the first girl. “I’m sure Sam didn’t mean to upset Ryan. He’s probably just tired from fighting the bad dogs and you know that sometimes when people are tired they get cranky. But he really wasn’t trying to make your brother cry, right Sam?” The question held an edge to it and Sam figured that his life depended on answering it correctly.

Sam forced a smile. “Of course I didn’t mean it.” 

“Is… is Dean dead?” Ryan asked between sniffles.

“No, he’s fine.” Sam responded, praying that it was true. Then he spoke to the whole group. “We came across these guys,” Sam gestured to the people that had followed him to the camp. “They were under attack from a hellhound. We killed it, and I brought them back here so they’d be safe while Dean continued on.”

“What’s a hellhound?” Ken asked. He was the only one of the three paintball players that was managing to hold together. 

“The thing that killed your friend. They are invisible demonic dogs. They usually only kill people who have sold their souls to demons, but these ones seem to be attacking people randomly.”

While he was explaining the creatures to Ken, Kathy had come over and gently put her arm around Tracie, leading the young woman over to sit on a blanket spread out on the ground. Tony followed, showing signs of being in shock. While their reaction was completely understandable, it left Sam with more people to protect and no extra help. Unless…

“Ken, can you use a regular handgun?” 

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Sam pulled out his spare pistol and handed it to the much shorter man. “The bullets in this can kill those things, but I want you to use the paintball gun first if anything attacks. Being able to target them will be very helpful. After that, shoot to kill. And don’t waste ammo.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“You going to be okay?”

“No, definitely not. But I can still shoot those freaks.”

“Good.”

Sam felt Chris watching him. He knew that the other man hadn’t believed them before and he was hoping that more witnesses would be enough to convince him.

“We should get out of here before we’re all killed.” Chris announced.

“No.” Sam countered. “We will be safe so long as we stay in the salt circle. If we try to hike out of here there’s a good chance we’ll be attacked. And even with three of us armed, it might not be enough depending on how many of these monsters are out there.”

“This is not some fictional creature, asshole!” Chris yelled. “I don’t know what kind of kicks you’re getting pulling this crap but stop! There’s a wolf or something out there and it is going to show up here eventually and salt isn’t going to do anything to stop it from eating us all. Now, I’m hiking out of here now. Who’s with me?”

“I don’t want to stay in the woods anymore.” Tony spoke up. “It killed my friend. I don’t want to die too.”

“I want to go home.” Dana said in a soft voice. 

“Dana, no.” Josh warned his little sister. “We’re safer here.”

“I just want to go.”

Kathy looked between her boyfriend and her brother. “Josh is right. We need to stay.”

“You cant’ tell me what to do!” The girl protested.

“You’re choosing these lunatics and your stupid brother over me?” Chris hollered at his girlfriend at the same time as Dana was arguing with her siblings.

“Yes, Dana, I can tell you what to do because Mom and Dad told Josh and I that we were in charge of you while we were out here. And we are all staying put.” Now Kathy turned on Chris, who Sam suspected was soon to be an ex-boyfriend if he continued mouthing off. “We are safer staying with a group that is armed. Besides, I’m not convinced that Dean and Sam are crazy. Something is going on and it’s not just animal attacks. And if you ever call anyone in my family stupid again, hungry monsters will be the least of your worries.”

“Fine, stay here and die. You better hope that your new knight in shining armor shows up to protect you, bitch!”

“First off, I told you last night to cut the jealous act. I was just being welcoming, not flirting with Dean. And secondly, take your crude mouth and get out of my sight!”

Sam groaned. The situation was spiraling out of control. He made a last ditch effort to salvage it. “Everyone calm down. We need to work together and get prepared for if and when the hellhounds come back here.”

“Take your hellhounds and shove them! I’m leaving.” Chris grabbed a pack out of his tent and walked off, making sure to break the salt line as he did so. Tony stood and ran after him. 

“Should we go after them?” Nicki asked.

“No.” Sam replied as he tried to repair the salt circle. “We can’t force them to stay with us and we can’t afford to split up.” He lowered his voice so the three young children wouldn’t hear the next part. “If the hellhounds find a way to get in here we will need all the manpower we have to keep everyone alive.”

“They can get in here?”

Sam shrugged. “They are smart and we are all out of salt. If they find a way to break the circle, or if it starts to rain again, we’re in trouble.”

Nicki looked at her children and obviously decided that protecting them was much more important than trying to hunt down two guys that had chosen to leave.

Sam was just about ready to start trying to talk out a plan of action, when Kathy cried out in alarm.

“Dana! Oh my god! Where did she go?”

“She didn’t leave with the others.” Josh informed her.

“She must have slipped off while we were arguing with Chris.” Kathy started to head for the woods. “We have to find her.”

“Stop.” Sam ordered. “You don’t know where she is and I doubt she’ll answer us if we call. The best thing to do is to wait here where it’s safer and see if she comes back. She probably won’t be able to find the other two and she’ll return here.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yeah.” Sam hoped that it was true. But he had a feeling that they wouldn’t be seeing any of those three people again.

…  
…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…  
…

Dean raised the shotgun at Candy but, with a wave of her hand, his weapon was flung from his grasp. It landed a few feet away from him. 

“Now, now. Is that anyway to treat a lady?”

“You’re no lady, you black-eyed bitch!” Dean growled.

“I’m sure that’s not what you were thinking as you were checking out my ass yesterday.”

“That was you? You were possessing her even then?”

“I know how to be subtle. I picked through Candy’s thoughts and just said what she would’ve.”

“So what’s your game then? Why are you sicking your pets on these people?”

“I’m not.” Candy circled Dean, clearly checking him out this time. Dean stared forward defiantly, not showing how uncomfortable her gaze made him feel. When she was facing him once again, she continued speaking. “A hound was sent here a few weeks ago to collect on a deal. It did its job, but never returned. Next thing we know, more hounds are traveling here to join it. They ignore all orders to come back down to hell and refuse to take any jobs. We can’t sense what’s keeping them here, so I was sent to find out.”

“Oh, so I’m supposed to believe that you’re here to help stop them?” Dean snorted his disbelief.

“Oh, I’m not here to help you. I’m actually hoping to get a front row seat to your grizzly death. And as you can imagine, I don’t care how many tourists the hounds kill. But we can’t have them just running off doing whatever they please. They serve us and disobedience will not be tolerated.”

“How about you take your evil non-corporeal ass out of that woman and I’ll gladly punish your wayward pets for you?”

The demon laughed. “By killing them all? I don’t think so. Besides, even if you did manage to kill the ones already here, more are showing up all the time. So, unless you plan to spend the rest of you life hunting hellhounds in this forest, there’s nothing you can do about any of this.”

The thought of consistently fighting hellhounds for the rest of his life made Dean cringe. Candy obviously sensed his discomfort.

“Oh, that’s right. Poor little Dean is scared of the big, bad wolf. Do these little hounds still give you nightmares?” She stepped forward, whispering into his ear almost intimately. “Do you remember what it felt like? The fear, the pain, the utter helplessness as they tore you to shreds? Oh, how I can’t wait to see that play out.” She stepped back from him and smiled.

Dean wished he had the demon killing knife with him. As much as he didn’t want to kill the innocent woman the demon was possessing, if he had that weapon she would be skewered by now. 

“Well, it’s gonna play out differently this time.” He informed her. “First I’m gonna find out what’s keeping the hellhounds here and I’m gonna stop it, killing as many of those mangy beasts as possible. And you’re more than welcome to a front row seat for that, because when I’m done with them I’m gonna end you, you bitch.”

“Promises, promises.” Candy shook her head. “Not terribly likely Dean Winchester, but I do admire the attitude.”

“I’d tell you what I admire about you, but there’s nothing on that list.”

“Keep up the brave act, Deanie. You’re going to need it.”

Dean was about to respond when he heard what the demon had already seen. Low growling revealed that a hellhound was nearby. Candy backed up and moved away from the hunter. Dean stepped to the side and snatched his shotgun up from the ground. By that time the demon chick was already gone, but Dean had more pressing matters to deal with anyway. 

A growl came from only a couple of feet to his right. Dean spun and fired. The creature let out a pained yelp, so the hunter fired again. A thud indicated that the monster was dead. But Dean had no opportunity to congratulate himself. He heard another hellhound approaching from behind. With no time to reload, he slung the shotgun onto his back and pulled out his pistol. Dean turned to face the next invisible attacker and fired. The first two shots missed, but when the third caused blood to bloom from thin air, the hunter had a target. Another shot ended the second creature. Unfortunately, Dean never heard the third one and was taken by complete surprise as it grabbed his leg with its powerful jaws and pulled him to the forest floor.


	9. Under Attack

Chapter Nine: Under Attack

Sam checked the salt lines for what was probably the hundredth time. Not surprisingly, they were in the same condition that they had been in the last time he’d checked. Which was about five minutes ago. But he needed to do something to use up his nervous energy, and this was all that he could think of to do. It had been very quiet since Chris, Tony, and Dana had left camp. At first everyone had held their breath, waiting to hear screams or to see their companions coming running back to safety. But after an hour or so, everyone knew that neither scenario would occur. They were now too far away to hear their cries, and after all that time it was highly unlikely that they’d make it back if they were attacked. Now everyone seemed to be in a holding pattern with nothing to do but worry and pray. Kathy sat leaning on her older brother, silent tears falling to her lap. Sam was certain that she was mourning her sister and not her jerk of a boyfriend. Josh held her tightly, occasionally murmuring what Sam assumed were words of comfort. Paul was doing his best to keep his children occupied while Nicki was cooking some food. The twins were in fairly good spirits, but Ryan was sitting drawing shapes in the dirt with a stick and occasionally sniffling and wiping at his face with his sleeve. The little boy was definitely missing his new hero. Ken was staring off into the woods, a look of worried determination on his face. Tracie had cried herself to sleep and was curled up on the ground out cold. And Sam was busying himself by checking salt lines and trying not to think about Dean. Trying not to imagine his brother laying on the ground, torn up and bleeding, quiet moans escaping his lips along with thick red fluid, life draining out of him slowly and agonizingly and… No. He wasn’t going there. 

“Dinner’s ready.” Nicki announced. 

Sam watched as she handed out plates filled with hotdogs, macaroni, and canned corn, first to the children and then the adults, excluding the sleeping woman. She approached Sam last.

“Are you going to sit down and eat?”

“Yeah.” Sam responded, but made no move to match action with words. 

“You’re worried about him.”

“Yeah.”

“He seems like he knows how to take care of himself.”

“He does.” Sam agreed. “But not against this.”

“You said you guys have run into these things before, right?” When Sam nodded, she continued. “Well, he obviously survived it then, so what makes you think…” Nicki must have seen something in his expression because she switched gears. “What happened? Was Dean hurt?”

“Very badly.” Sam admitted, not sure why he was being so truthful with this woman, but glad to talk out his anxiety. “I watched it happen, but I was restrained and couldn’t help him. By the time I got free and reached him… I can’t forget it and neither can Dean. He’s playing it cool, but he’s a nervous wreck. I’m afraid he’s going to make a mistake or freeze up and get himself killed.”

“If you want to go to him, Ken and I can watch out for everyone here.”

“No. I told everyone that we couldn’t split up to go after the guys that took off earlier, and I can’t make an exception now.” Sam tried to sound sure of himself, but part of him seriously considered taking her up on the offer, screw what the others would think. But he couldn’t just leave these guys to their fate and run off after his brother, no matter how much he wanted to. So instead he sat down and took the plate of food from Nicki. The first few bites threatened to come back up as his stomach rebelled due to the discomfort his worrying had caused. Sam was about to force more down when he heard something sniffing along the outside of the salt circle. A quick look revealed nothing.

“Ken, something’s out there.” Sam proclaimed, getting to his feet.

The paintball player stepped up next to the hunter and began to fire his gun. It only took two shots before a paint splotch appeared in thin air. Ken kept firing, marking three other invisible beasts. While he was doing that, Sam pulled his gun and fired, taking out the first hellhound with one shot. The second creature was disposed of just as easily, but the third ran and Sam’s shot missed. Nicki’s, however didn’t. The fourth hellhound ran back into the woods. The encounter was over within a matter of moments. Sam was almost disappointed, as the fight had taken his mind off of other things. 

“You think they’ll be back?” Ken asked.

“Maybe.” Sam was sure that they’d be back eventually, but his fear was that for the moment they would be going after the less protected prey. That they would be going after Dean.

…  
…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…Supernatural…  
…

Dean hit the ground hard, but almost didn’t feel his head and back slam down onto the dirt and rocks. He was much more concerned with the teeth that were digging into his left leg. With a strangled cry, Dean smacked the invisible monster in the face with his gun, not trusting his shaking hands to aim and fire. The hellhound let go. Dean felt blood trickling down his leg from the puncture marks, but they didn’t seem to be terribly deep. The hunter scuttled backwards, trying to put some distance between himself and the creature. But he wasn’t fast enough. Claws tore at his left leg, starting from just below his knee and dragging all the way to his ankle. Dean screamed in horror and agony. Flashbacks from another hellhound attack tried to push themselves to the front of his mind, but Dean fought them back. If he gave in now, his life would be over. 

A heavy paw landed on his right hip, and this time the injured hunter didn’t hesitate to fire his weapon. Dark blood exploded in midair, spraying all over him. The hellhound fell into Dean’s lap. He felt it trying to draw breath before giving one final spasm and then becoming still. With a grunt of disgust, Dean pushed the carcass off of himself. Keeping his upper body propped up with his left elbow, the hunter listened for any more threats. There was only the sound of birds up above in the trees and his own labored breathing. 

With the immediate danger over with, Dean dropped back down to lie on the ground. He wanted nothing more than to wrap up his injured leg and rest for a while. He was tired, both physically and mentally, and the idea of getting up and continuing on when there was every chance he’d have to fight more hellhounds just didn’t seem that damned appealing. But staying on the ground was not an option. If Dean was to lose consciousness, and the hellhounds or that demon chick were still around, he would never again wake up. He was also having difficulties keeping the flashbacks at bay. Dean felt them lurking at the corners of his mind, waiting to pounce as soon as he let his guard down. So yeah, sleeping was not the best idea.

“No rest for the wicked.” Dean muttered under his breath as he pulled himself once more into a sitting position. 

He took a moment to inspect his leg. The jeans were shredded, and he pushed the tattered remains away from his wound to get a better look. Four long, deep gashes were pouring out blood. He’d need to stop the bleeding before he could even think about continuing on. Dean was about to take his jacket off so that he could remove his shirt to use as a bandage, when he heard something moving in the bushes. While it was still a bit of a distance from where he was, the hunter knew he had no time to waste. He struggled to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain. Dean took a moment to reload his shotgun, then took off in what he thought was the direction that he had been heading before running into Candy and Jeff. He knew that he was nuts for continuing on with the mission in this condition, but Dean was nothing if not stubborn. Besides, he was almost there. If he could find what was attracting the hellhounds and put a stop to it, all of this crap would be over with. The only alternative would be to crawl back to camp and send his little brother out to face the hellhounds. Yeah, that was not gonna happen.

Dean moved as fast as his injury would allow, trying to be as quiet as possible to prevent the hellhounds from sneaking up on him. He was terrified that at any moment he would feel their teeth once again sink into his flesh, pulling him down once more, where they would rip his flesh open and tear at his insides. 

“Dude, stop it!” Dean scolded himself. He could not afford to panic. He had a job to do, and he really wanted to stay alive to complete it. 

After he’d been on the move for a while, Dean stopped and leaned against a tree. He didn’t think that he’d been followed, but he wasn’t positive. The injured man really wanted to take a break and care for his wounds, but it was just too dangerous. He had to keep moving. Dean pulled out the map and compass. After a moment, he let out a sigh of relief. Not only had he been going in the right direction, but if he could trust the map, he was close to his destination. There was only one problem. Up ahead of him was a steep drop. He had planned on climbing down it, although the color coding on the tourist map declared it to be dangerous, but hadn’t planned on having a leg injury. If he went around the cliff it would be much easier, but add another couple of hours to the hike. After a moment, Dean decided to check out the drop off and see how bad it was before coming up with a plan of action. Shoving the map and compass back into his pockets, the hunter continued on. He knew that his pace was slowing, but he couldn’t force himself to go any faster. That is until he heard a creature growling only a few feet behind him.

Without bothering to look at what he knew he could not see, Dean took off running. He felt as if his left leg would give out at any moment and he was limping wildly, but Dean somehow kept up a speed that would make an Olympic runner jealous. Yet the hellhound was gaining on him. He heard it getting closer and closer and he had no more energy to use to expand the distance between them. And then, just ahead of him, he saw the drop off. The incredibly steep drop off.

When Dean reached the edge, he saw that there was no way in hell that he’d be able to safely climb down. And he’d run out of both time and space to run. So, the hunter turned around and fired his shotgun. Nothing. He fired again. A pained yelp rang out followed by a thud. He heard scuffling sounds, as if it were gravely injured yet still trying to stand. Dean pulled out his handgun, aimed at the floating blood stain and ended its struggles. 

Two more growls could be heard closing in on Dean. He turned the weapon towards the direction one of them was coming from and fired. After a few shots, the creature fell. And now Dean was out of ammo. He quickly reloaded the pistol with more iron rounds and shoved it back into his waistband to reload the shotgun. All the while, he kept part of his attention on the other hellhound, which hadn’t moved from its spot. Dean was hoping that it was too afraid to get close to the man who’d ganked so many of its buddies, but he knew that it was probably just waiting for its prey to lower his guard. Which wasn’t likely to happen. 

When his shotgun was ready, Dean went to aim it at the last monster only to find that the beast was completely silent. No noise at all was made to alert the hunter to where his target was. Dean listened carefully and watched the ground. If he hadn’t been so focused, he would have missed the very faint paw print appear in the dirt only four feet in front of him. Dean whipped his weapon up and into position, but the hellhound must’ve somehow sensed that it had been found out because it pounced. The heavy weight of the creature’s body plowed into Dean causing him to fall backwards and right off the edge of the cliff. 

Dean ended up turning in midair and came down hard on his left side, then rolled, flipped, and somersaulted down the cliff side occasionally going into a complete free fall. The only good thing was that the hellhound was no longer on him. But as he made his way down the drop, he felt his ankle get caught on something and his twisting body wrenched his left knee out of joint with a sickening pop. He cried out in pain, but only moments later his head struck a rock and Dean Winchester knew no more.


	10. Keep on Fighting

Chapter Ten: Keep On Fighting

Dean Winchester stared up at the sky and tried to figure out why it was green instead of blue. The sky was supposed to be blue, wasn’t it? Maybe the fact that the sky was the wrong color was the reason that he was so cold. But people always used the color blue to represent cold, so wouldn’t the sky not being blue make it warm? That made sense, right? Sure. But a green sky, that didn’t make any sense at all. Wait, now it wasn’t just green, it was becoming red. It was strange though. The red seeping into the green sky was accompanied by a strange wet feeling on his forehead and into his eye. Maybe it was raining. A green sky raining red rain. And it was still making him so cold. Maybe if he wiped the red rain off of himself, he could get warm again. He reached up with his right hand and swiped rather clumsily at his face. The wetness didn’t go away, it merely smeared all over and the rubbing motion caused him pain. 

The sharp pain jerked Dean out of the hazy murkiness that his brain had been drowning in. With a gasp, he blinked several times and tried to make sense of his surroundings. Now he became certain that the sky was still blue, but it was being mostly obscured by the dense trees all around him. And it wasn’t raining. The right side of his face was covered in blood. Okay, well that explained the pain. But his head and face weren’t the only places that were hurting. His back and chest felt like they were on fire, his left leg was in agony, and his whole body was cold, a sure sign of shock and/or blood loss. Not his worst day, but certainly not his best.

The real question though was what had happened for him to be in this less than perfect condition. Dean closed his eyes, trying to remember. Running. He’d been running. Running from something. The pounding in his head derailed his thoughts. Damn, but he hurt. 

Dean put his hand up to his head to try and figure out how bad the bleeding was. There was a lump and a gash at his hairline that was pouring out blood and a shallower cut down the side of his face where the blood was sluggishly oozing out. The head wound was pretty bad, but he wouldn’t bleed out. On to the other injuries. Dean gently pressed his fingers over his ribs, checking for breaks. At least one broken and several more fractured or bruised. His breathing wasn’t hindered so he assumed that his lungs weren’t punctured. He had no way to check the reasons that his back hurt, but he prayed it was just bruising and nothing major. He knew back injuries could be serious and that he probably shouldn’t move, but a voice in the back of his head was yelling at him that he couldn’t lay on the ground for too long waiting for help. So he slowly and carefully sat up. As he did so, his left leg screamed at him in protest. Dean closed his eyes against the pain, struggling against the overwhelming urge to lie back down and perhaps pass out. After a moment, when he had himself back under control, the hunter opened his eyes and looked to see what the damage on his leg was like. Damn. His knee was obviously swollen, he could tell even with the joint hidden by his jeans, and the lower part of his leg was positioned at a very odd angle. But the good news was that there weren’t any bones popping through his flesh. So, probably dislocated and fractured but not broken. The bad news was that the lower portion of his leg was bleeding heavily from long, deep, ragged gashes that ran from knee to ankle. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean spat out through clenched teeth. 

Just how the hell was he supposed to get up and get back to the others. Others? Who had he been with? Sam. Sam was definitely with him before, so why wasn’t he here now? Oh, right… he was back at the camp. Camp? Why were they camping? 

It didn’t matter right now. He had to stop the bleeding. Dean struggled out of his leather jacket, and pulled off his dark blue flannel shirt. He then took out his pocket knife and cut the denim pant leg off just above the swollen knee. He’d have to get the damned thing set after he took care of his open bloody wounds. After cutting the denim into long strips, Dean folded his shirt and pressed it against the cuts, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. He then took the strips of cloth and used them to tie the shirt tightly over his wounds. 

When he was done, the injured young man wanted nothing more than to lay back and rest, but that wasn’t an option. Using what little strength he had left, Dean gripped his leg and jerked the bones back into place. This time he couldn’t stop himself from crying out. And he didn’t even try to remain upright. Falling onto his back (which jarred his other injuries and hurt like hell), Dean felt the darkness trying to take over, but he didn’t let it. He was hurt for some reason and if that reason was nearby and he lost consciousness, there was a good chance that he’d never wake up again.

What he needed was a plan. Okay, step one: Don’t die. Step two: try to remember why he was injured and what he was up against. Step three: figure out how the freakin’ hell he was gonna get up and walk outta here.

His gaze fell upon his shot gun, lying just out of reach. If he could scoot over and grab it, he could use it as a means of defense and as a crutch. So, steps one and three were looking attainable. But what about step two? What had happened to him? 

Suddenly, Dean heard a something growling off to his right. He turned but didn’t see anything. The sound got closer, much too close to be hidden by the trees or bushes surrounding him. But still he couldn’t see the creature. That’s when he remembered. 

What little blood he had left drained from his face and he began to shake. Dean prided himself on his fearlessness during hunts, but right now he had to admit that he was terrified. But really, who in his position wouldn’t be. He was alone and severely injured in the middle of an 800,000 acre forest. His brother probably wouldn’t be rushing to his rescue any time soon, and there was no way he’d be able to move very quickly. His best weapon was lying just out of reach, leaving him with just a small knife on the ground near his hand and the pistol that was tucked into the back of his pants and pinned between his body and the forest floor. Oh, and he was being stalked by at least one, and possibly more, of the creatures that he hated the most. The beasts that paralyzed him with fear. The things that had once torn him to pieces and sent his soul to unending torture in Hell. Vicious monsters that couldn’t be seen but were extremely dangerous. Dean was being hunted by hellhounds. 

Trying to hold the panic at bay, Dean struggled once more into a sitting position. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at the air to his right. 

“C’mon, you son of a bitch. Come and get it. I’ll blow your freakin’ brains right outta your head just like I did your buddies. C’mon, what are you waiting for?”

But the beast did not approach him, obviously intelligent enough to realize that even injured, its prey was dangerous. Dean wasn’t dumb either. He knew that if he tried to get to his feet he would leave himself open to attack. They were at a standoff. 

Dean was the first to move. He leaned forward, placing his left hand on the ground for leverage and started to shift his good leg underneath himself. He had only just started the move when the hellhound rushed him. Dean heard the claws tear through the underbrush as it came at him and, having tricked his opponent into revealing its location, he raised his gun and fired. Two shots and the monster was dead. 

The hunter wasted no time patting himself on the back, though. He shifted sideways and snatched up the shotgun. Then, with a grunt of pain, Dean used the long weapon to brace himself against as he rose to his feet. The agony radiating from his injuries almost drove him back down. But his survival instincts took over and he started limping towards his original destination. Dean’s movements were slow and clumsy and he hoped that he’d make it to where he was going with no further interruptions. He wasn’t sure if he’d survive another confrontation. Of course it was extremely unlikely that he’d avoid more hellhounds now that he was bleeding and the smell of it was probably attracting all the creatures in the area. Besides, even if he reached his destination, he had no clue what he’d find there. But one problem at a time. 

Dean’s struggles to keep moving were getting harder as he went. The shirt around his leg was already starting to turn dark with his blood and his knee was throbbing despite his best efforts not to use it. And, as crutches went, a shotgun was a pretty lousy one. But the hunter forced himself on.

An hour later, Dean was reduced to dragging his left leg behind him and stopping to rest against a tree every few minutes. While he was resting, he took out the map and tried to figure out where the hell he was in relation to where he wanted to be. After a moment, he blinked in surprise when he realized that he was there. Dean looked around warily, but there was nothing to see but trees. Of course, the area that he’d marked on the map was fairly large, so maybe he just had to explore a bit. With a tired and pained groan, Dean pushed away from the tree and continued on.

Half an hour of searching revealed exactly what he’d first seen. Nothing. It was strange. Dean was at the exact epicenter of several vicious attacks and there was no trace of anything out of the ordinary. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to find. Maybe a gate to Hell, or a hellhound nest filled with little invisible killer puppies, or a freakin’ evil milkbone factory. But all that was there was trees, bushes, dirt, rocks, and moss. Yay. 

“Damn it all!” Dean cursed out loud. “Don’t you tell me that this was all for nothing.” The hunter had no clue who he was yelling at, but he wished that whoever it was heard him and for once in his life took pity on him. Because there was just no way that he’d be able to make it back to camp by himself with the hellhounds still out there. But there were no answers to be found here. Nothing to end all of this and keep his brother and the others at the camp safe. He’d failed. The story of his life.

When he heard a growl come from nearby, part of him wanted to just slump down to the ground and let the creature have its meal. But that just wasn’t the way Dean Winchester did things. He was trained to fight until he could fight no more and despite the exhaustion, blood loss, and pain, he could still fight. So, Dean swung his shotgun up, pointed it in the direction the sound had come from and waited. Panting and low growls gave away its place and Dean pulled the trigger. A sharp yelp, a splatter of blood, and then nothing. 

Dean wished it had been this easy to take out the hellhound that had come after him when his deal was up. But at the time he’d been held down helplessly because of that bitch Lilith. Besides, no matter how many of the creatures he would’ve killed back then, they would’ve just kept coming until they’d accomplished their mission of killing Dean and collecting his soul. Life would’ve become a never ending battle against hellhounds as they attacked him one after another, until he was ripped apart. Kind of like what was happening right now. Which brought to mind a truly horrible idea. What if they were here right now to kill him and send his soul back down to the pit? What if God had decided that he wasn’t in fact worth the trouble of saving and was casting him back to Hell? No, Dean couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t go back. He felt his breathing speed up as a full on panic attack threatened him, but just then, a calm voice in his head pointed out that he was being ridiculous. The attacks had started long before he’d gotten there. Besides, if all of this was truly aimed at him, that demon bitch Candy would’ve been bragging about it. But the demons were just as confused as him. So, it wasn’t about Dean. He wasn’t a target for Hell yet again. The relief that flowed through him at that revelation was almost enough to bring him to his knees. 

Then a growl off to his left reminded him that he was still in danger. Before he could turn towards the sound, he heard the telltale sounds of running and knew that the beast was ready to pounce. Dean spun and pulled the trigger, praying that he’d hit his attacker. Two things happened simultaneously. The hellhound let out a whine as it fell to the ground dead and Dean let out a cry as his left leg ended up giving out under the strain and he fell to the ground as well. His leg was on fire, his ribs and back were throbbing, his head spun from the concussion he’d suffered and Dean was no longer able to fight the darkness that was seeping in around the edges of his vision. The last thing he saw before blacking out once more was a man he’d never seen before standing over him watching his plight with a somewhat amused smile on his face.


	11. A Different Kind of Monster

Chapter Eleven: A Different Kind of Monster

Dean tried to get up but found that he couldn’t. An invisible force was pinning him to the ground. He looked around, desperately trying to see anything that he could somehow use to fight whatever was doing this to him, but there was nothing but small twigs within reach. Besides, the pressure that was holding him down was so great that he doubted he’d be able to even move his hands to grab a weapon, let alone be able to use one. 

“Let me go, you son of a bitch!” He yelled. But no one responded. As far as the hunter could see, his attacker was either far away or invisible. Then he heard it. Several growls were coming from all around him. The hellhounds. Dean struggled against the immovable force, but it was no use. And just then he heard one of the creatures getting closer. Panic rushed through him as he started to scream empty threats and profanities at the hellhound and the entity that was restraining him. Then he felt agony rip through him as the beast’s claws tore into his skin. Dean’s chest was ripped open and he felt what seemed like gallons of hot blood come spilling out. 

“Help!” He cried out. “Sam, help me!”

Then Dean smelled the hellhound’s rancid breath and felt the razor sharp teeth dig into his throat and he knew it was all over.

“No!” Dean gasped out as he opened his eyes. The pain in his injured leg flared up as he moved, but the agony in his chest faded to a dull throb. The feel of broken and bruised ribs instead of deep bleeding gashes. It took only a moment for him to realize that he’d been dreaming. Damn, he couldn’t even escape the nightmares when he was unconscious. 

Dean tried to get up but found that he couldn’t. His first thought was of the invisible force that had pinned him down in the dream, but this was different. His arms were tied tightly behind his back and his legs were tied together. He managed to roll onto his right side and saw a pair of hiking boots coming towards him. The hunter craned his neck and saw the same man he’d seen just before blacking out.

The man was probably an inch or so taller than Dean and had close cropped dark brown hair that was just beginning to recede. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked pretty harmless except for the smug and slightly crazed smirk on his face. 

“I don’t suppose you’d mind untying me?”

“Now why would I do that if I’m the one that tied you up in the first place?”

“Because you’ve suddenly seen the error of your ways?”

The man laughed. “No, I don’t think so. I like you just how you are.”

“Uh, thanks. I’m flattered, really. But I don’t swing that way, dude.”

“I bet you think you’re funny, huh?”

“I know I am. But enough about me. What’s up with you? How are you controlling the hellhounds and why?”

“Controlling them?” The man shook his head. “If only. No, I don’t control them. I just avoid them.”

“Then you’re in the wrong place, man.”

“It doesn’t matter where I am. Now that they have my scent, they’ll follow me anywhere.”

Things started to fall into place. “You sold your soul.” Dean stated.

“Yes.”

“When’s your deal up?”

“Seven years ago.”

Dean blinked in disbelief. “Why aren’t you hellhound jerky?”

“I sold my soul for mystical powers. Used them to make myself rich and got the life I always wanted. I learned how to make anything I ever wanted just appear with a mere thought. And I figured I could use the powers to keep myself alive and avoid paying my end of the deal. I started researching and when learned about the hellhounds I tried to find a way control them. I thought I had, so I decided to test it. I tracked down some lady who had sold her soul for a hot body and waited for the hellhounds to show. I tried to make them do my will, and failed miserably. I tried again and again with similar results. Finally, with only months left, I discovered a way to cloak myself from any demonic force. I needed to be in complete seclusion for it to work, so I came out here.”

“Well, you didn’t do such a great job with the whole cloaking thing. Hellhounds are sniffing around here like crazy.”

“Yeah, I know. They didn’t have a clue as to where I was and then a few weeks ago they just showed up. I’m safe in my little area here though, no one on the outside can see in and nothing demonic can enter without being destroyed.”

A few weeks ago? Dean remembered the demon telling him that a soul was collected from this area during that time. That must’ve been when the hellhounds caught this guy’s scent. And since they can’t find him to collect on the deal, more just keep showing up to help out. Stubborn little bastards. “And what? You’re just gonna live here until you die of old age?”

“Don’t be so stupid. I stopped my aging process long ago. And no, I won’t be here forever. Just until I figure out how to permanently get the hellhounds and their demon handlers off my back.”

“Well, good luck with that. But you really don’t need me here, so why not just let me go.”

“Right, so you can undermine me? No, I don’t think so. See, I know a hunter when I see one and that can’t be good news.”

“Look, mister…”

“Wynn. Peter Wynn.”

“Yeah well, Petey I’m no threat to you. So if you’re not gonna let me go, how about using some of those powers to heal me up a bit so I don’t bleed to death, huh?”

Peter scoffed. “No. You see, I can’t really keep you around or let you just go, but I’m not a killer. I don’t think I’d be able to actually end your life by my own hand, but if you were to bleed out from hellhound inflicted wounds, well that really wouldn’t be my fault.”

“What the hell kind of reasoning is that? It would be your fault, just like it’s your fault that all those other people are getting torn to pieces out here. Did you even know that the hellhounds are murdering innocent hikers while you hide away here safe and sound?” One look at the other man’s expression gave Dean his answer. “You do know, you just don’t care.”

“Hey, I’m not the one killing them, it’s those hellhounds.”

“And the hellhounds are here because of you. They’re either seeing other people as a threat or maybe they’re just bored, but the fact remains that as long as you’re here, more people are going to die.”

“And what would you have me do?” Peter inquired. “Throw myself to the wolves to save a bunch of people I’ve never met?”

“It’s better than sitting on your ass and letting others die in your place.”

“At least when they die, they have a chance at going to heaven. You know where I’m going? Hell.”

“Yeah, dumbass, that’s what happens when you sell your soul.” Dean shrugged as best as he could while lying on his side all tied up.

“Well, I’m not going there. You can’t even imagine what it’s going to like for me down there.”

“I don’t have to imagine, I’ve been there.” Dean revealed. “And I can’t think of a better place for scum like you.”

Peter scowled at the hunter. “You can’t possibly have been to Hell. Nobody comes back from there.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m lying.” Dean stared right at the other man. Something that Peter saw caused him to shiver just a bit.

“No way. But how… I mean why were you there? How did you get out?”

“Sold my soul. But for a lot better reason than you. As for getting out…” Another shrug. “An angel pulled me from the pit. But good luck trying to get out that way. I don’t think they care much about douche-bags that let innocent people die so that they can play wizard out in the woods.” 

“I’m not a bad guy.” Peter insisted. “I just don’t want to go to Hell.”

“Who does? But you’re going, one way or another. The question is how many people are you going to let die so you can remain topside a little while longer?”

“I’m not going.”

“Man, you are really dense. You can’t escape your fate forever. And you need to do something before the hellhounds kill the campers that are out there in danger right now. There are children with them.”

“I don’t care.” 

“And that makes you more a monster than the hellhounds.” Dean’s voice was cold as he delivered that assessment. 

“Think what you like. Your opinion matters little to me. With your injuries and lack of food, water, and medical care, you won’t last more than a day or so.”

“And you’ll be burning in Hell long before I’m dead. That’s a promise.”

No words were exchanged after that. Peter stared at Dean for a long moment before kicking him in the ribs. Then, as Dean was gasping for breath, the other man stepped over him and walked off. The injured hunter heard what sounded like a slight creaking, as if a person had climbed onto a swing. After he’d recovered enough, Dean rolled over to see that Peter was lying back in a comfortable looking hammock reading a very old book and drinking a beer. 

“Wow, you can conjure anything you want and this is what you do with it?”

The man chose to ignore him. Dean shifted, trying to determine whether or not Peter had found and removed all of his knives. Unfortunately it seemed as though he had. The hunter patted the ground and found a rock with a semi-sharp edge. It would take forever to cut through the ropes with it, but it would have to do. 

Dean had been working on the ropes for quite a while before Peter spoke again.

“So, what’s it like?”

Dean knew immediately what he was referring to, but decided to play dumb.

“What’s what like? If you’re talking about getting laid, it’s great. I understand why you’ve never experienced it before, but you totally missed out, pal.”

“You’re not funny. And you know what I meant. Hell. What is Hell like?”

“It’s not really that bad. Just all hype, you know.”

“Really?”

“No, not really, jackass. It’s Hell! Never ending torture. And just when you think it can’t possibly get any worse… it does. Hell will tear you apart physically, mentally, and emotionally and then put you back together just to do it all over again. Whatever you’ve been imagining it will be like, well that won’t be anywhere close to the agony you’ll experience. Hope your lame ass mystic powers were worth it.”

Peter’s face paled for a moment, then turned red as he focused his emotions against Dean. “You smug bastard! You think it’s funny that I’m destined for Hell?”

“No, not funny. But in your case, it’s a well deserved reward for all the good things you’ve done with your life.”

The man threw his beer bottle at Dean, hitting him on his already injured head. The bottle shattered, and Dean felt blood and beer run down the right side of his face.

“How do you like that, huh?”

“Next time leave a little more beer in the bottle for me, okay?” 

Peter ran at him and the hunter realized he might have pushed a desperate man a little too far. And that never ended well. When the man reached him, he began kicking Dean over and over again, in the face, chest, stomach, and even his injured leg. Dean tried not to cry out, not wanting to give the guy the satisfaction, but after a particularly hard kick landed on his knee and once again dislocated it, the hunter couldn’t help the pained scream that escaped him. Finally, Peter seemed to have run out of steam and with one last kick to Dean’s belly, he stepped back breathing hard. A moment of complete silence followed.

“You know, I’m not normally a violent person. I’ve never hurt another human before.”

“Yeah, you’re a real saint.” Dean managed to gasp out. “You know, except for letting all those innocent people die in your place, that is.” 

“I have no choice.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Just shut up, or I’ll throw you back out to the hellhounds. And I can see at least a dozen of them nearby. I think the smell of your blood has attracted all the ones in the area.”

“Why did you bring me in here in the first place?”

“Well, you were only about two feet from the border of my safe area.” He pointed to what seemed to be a line of rocks that was set in place around the perimeter of his safety zone, probably to remind him of where it became unsafe to wander. “And it's been many years since I've gotten to talk to anyone. I mistakenly thought that it might be nice to have some company for a change. Besides, I need your blood.”

“What?”

“The protection symbols need to be written in blood. I’ve been using animal blood, but it’s just not as strong. I have to refresh the symbols every week. But your blood will allow me to be in peace here for at least a whole year.”

“Well, you can’t have it. I’m still using it. Most of it anyways.”

“Don’t be such a baby. I’m only going to use a little. Besides, the way you’re going, you’re not going to be needing your blood much longer. So just think of this as a little donation.” And with that, Peter picked up a piece of the broken bottle and knelt down next to Dean.


	12. What Had To Be Done

Chapter Twelve: What Had to be Done

Dean worked frantically on cutting the ropes with the rock he was holding as he watched the glass shard in Peter’s hand get closer to him. He thought it slightly ironic that if he himself was holding the glass, he would be able to cut through his bindings in an instant. But as it was, there was no way he’d get free in time to save himself from more pain. This day just really sucked.

The glass had just touched the skin on Dean’s arm (and he found it a little odd that he hadn’t even noticed until that moment that his jacket had been removed) when a voice startled both of them.

“Hey! Get the hell away from my brother!”

Peter jumped up, allowing Dean to roll onto his left side to see Sam standing just inside the safe zone, pointing a gun at the attacker’s head. Dean grinned. This day had just begun to improve. 

The older Winchester watched as Peter approached his brother holding the piece of glass out in front of him. Sam saw the makeshift weapon as well.

“I’ve heard of bringing a knife to a gun fight, but this is just pathetic.”

Dean shifted forward, pulling his body over the remains of the broken beer bottle. He felt the shards cut into him, but ignored it as his hand closed around a large piece. His earlier prediction was dead on. It took only a few seconds to free himself.

“I don’t need any weapons to defeat you.” Peter boasted. “I have access to powerful magics. I could take you down with but a thought.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t be hiding in here.” Sam pointed out.

As if that reminded him, Peter narrowed his eyes. “How did you find us in here?”

“Oh, you mean your mystical cloaking device? It worked very well. I couldn’t see any of this until I got inside. You would’ve remained hidden from me indefinitely if you guys weren’t being so damned loud.”

Dean kept silent for once as he worked to cut the bindings from his legs. The last thing he needed was for Peter to turn around and see him freeing himself. Once the last of the ropes were off, there was one more thing to do before he could join the fight. He had to reset his knee. Again. And this time he’d have to do it quietly. Dean grabbed one of the ropes and shoved it into his mouth to bite down on and then took hold of his leg. He grunted in pain as he jerked the joint back into place, but luckily the sound didn’t attract any attention. And Sam was studiously keeping his gaze off of his brother and kept up the distraction.

“I mean all the hounds know exactly where you are by now. What are you going to do if they find a way in?”

“There is no way in.” Peter bragged. “It’s not like the wimpy little salt circles you hunters use. You can’t break it without using magic. I’m completely safe. Unlike you guys. Once I’m finished toying with you, I’m going to use your brother’s blood to strengthen my spells and then I’ll throw you both to the hounds.”

“I can just shoot you right now.” Sam pointed out.

“I can stop a bullet in midair before it reaches me.”

“Nice theory. Want to test it?”

“Go right ahead.”

Dean struggled to his feet. This had to end. The longer they stood here locked in a pissing contest, the greater the chance that the hellhounds would kill more people. And Dean couldn’t let that happen. Besides, Peter might be a self-centered ass, but Dean didn’t know the extent of his powers or how much of a threat he really was. The dude certainly didn’t seem to be afraid of guns, that was for sure. But there was one thing he was afraid of. The very thing that Dean himself feared.

Dean took two steps to his left, and tried to mentally calculate the best angle for his stunt. He saw Sam’s eyes widen as his little brother realized what Dean was about to do. 

“I got a better idea, asshole.” Dean shouted. As he’d expected, Peter spun around to face him. While Peter was still slightly off balance from the turn and the shock at seeing his captive standing before him, Dean ran a couple of steps forwards, wincing at the excruciating pain in his left leg, and launched himself at the other man. The hunter collided with his target and they both tumbled to the ground. Dean forced them to roll a couple of times until he was certain that they were out of the safe area. If he had any doubts that they were once again vulnerable to the hellhounds, they were immediately put to rest when he heard growling coming from only a few feet away. Dean let go of Peter and tried to crawl away but the other man held him tight.

“You idiot! You’ve killed us both!” Peter screamed at him.

“Let go!” Dean shouted back.

“If I’m dying, you are too.”

“Been there, done that, not doing it again.” Dean declared as he pulled his right arm free and stabbed Peter in the shoulder with the piece of glass that he’d still been clutching. The man shrieked and let go of the hunter. Dean wasted no time in rolling off of Peter and trying to scoot backwards. Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him farther away. Dean allowed his brother to haul him inside the safety zone. Sam knelt down behind him and Dean leaned back against the taller man, trying to regain a somewhat normal breathing pattern. 

As he watched, Peter sat up only to be knocked over by an invisible force. The man screamed as he was torn apart. It took less than half a minute for the cries to turn to gurgling to become dead silence as the man who had sold his soul met his gruesome end. Dean had to admit that even though he despised the guy, it was an awful thing to watch. He felt a pang of sorrow for his brother, knowing that Sam had had to witness the very same thing happen to him not so long ago.

When it was over, there was not a noise to heard anywhere nearby. After a moment Sam spoke up.

“Do you think they’re gone now?”

“They have no other reason to stick around.” Dean replied. “That moron sold his soul and was hiding out here. They were after him.”

“Yeah, I figured that out when I overheard you saying something about letting innocent people die in his place.”

Dean tried to turn his head to see his brother. “Are you okay, Sam?” He hadn’t seen any wounds on the younger man, but was still worried.

“Yeah. I only ran into two hellhounds on the way here. I guess they decided to regroup at their target.”

“Well, according to douche-bag, they were attracted by the smell of my blood. The two you ran into, did you gank them? They didn’t attack you, did they?” 

“You’re a real piece of work, Dean. You look like crap and you’re worrying about me. This is just typical of you.” With that, Sam stood up and gently laid Dean on his back. Then he looked him over. “Oh God, Dean. You are a mess.”

“And still better looking than you.” Dean shot back.

“Cute.” Sam shook his head at his brother’s antics.

“See, even you agree that I’m the good looking one.”

Sam took off the backpack that Dean hadn’t noticed before and rummaged through it for a minute before pulling out a first aid kit. He then took the bloody rags off of Dean’s leg. He made a face when he saw the extent of the damage. Sam then proceeded to clean out the wounds with peroxide (which hurt like hell), put butterfly strips on to pull the skin back together and hold it in place so it would heal correctly, cover it with several sterile non-stick pads and wrap the whole thing up with a roll of gauze. When he was finished he cleaned Dean’s head wound and used the butterfly strips there as well. When Sam seemed satisfied that Dean was as fixed up as he could be, he helped his brother sit up and handed him some painkillers and a bottle of water. Then the younger Winchester began to pack up the first aid supplies.

After swallowing the pills and downing about half the water, Dean cleared his throat to get his brother’s attention.

“So, not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here? I thought you were going back to camp.”

“And I did. Yesterday. When you didn’t get back by this morning I came out looking for you.”

“No way, man! That’s impossible. I couldn’t have been gone overnight. It never got dark.”

“So you’re saying that you never lost consciousness at any point from when we split up to now?” Sam inquired, staring right at the cut on Dean’s temple.

Dean knew that he hadn’t been out that long after his fall down the steep drop off, but he realized that he had no clue how long he’d been unconscious the second time. “Dude, that freak kept me tied up overnight? That’s just messed up.”

“Are you okay to walk back to camp?” Sam asked.

“I can make it.” Dean tried to sound more sure than he felt. Truthfully, he was tired and in extreme pain, but he didn’t want to stay in these woods any longer than necessary. He held up his hand and his brother helped him to his feet without a word. Dean pulled away from him then and tried to take a step forward. That turned out to be a huge mistake. His body had apparently decided that it had had enough because his leg wouldn’t support him, his head started to spin and had Sam not put an arm around his waist and held him tight, Dean would’ve been greeting the ground with his face. Giving in, Dean threw his arm around the taller man’s shoulder, leaned part of his weight on him and allowed himself to be helped. 

The brothers stepped out of the protected area and paused, listening for any sign of the hellhounds. Nothing. It truly was over. With a sigh of relief they went to take another step forward. Dean was watching his own feet in an attempt to not stumble and drag them both to the ground when he heard Sam speak.

“Candy? What are you doing out here?”

Dean whipped his head up just in time to see the demon possessed woman pull someone out from behind a nearby tree and hold the young woman in front of her as a shield. It was Dana. Dean briefly wondered how Candy had gotten to the girl that should have been back at camp, safe inside the salt circle. But he had no time to figure it out now.

“Hello, Dean. I’m shocked to see you still alive. And how good of you to join us, Sam.” She smiled and her eyes turned black. “And I have to thank you for helping to clean up this little problem. But now of course, I’m going to kill you both.”


	13. One Hell of a Campfire Story

Chapter Thirteen: One Hell of a Campfire Story

Dean stared at Candy, wishing that she wasn’t using a young girl as a shield. The hunter wanted nothing more than to shoot the crap out of the demon chick and just go on his way. But he couldn’t risk Dana’s life. 

“Let the girl go.” Sam demanded.

Right, like that was going to work.

“Why, so you can shoot me full of iron and rock salt? I don’t think so.”

“Oh c’mon, we are gonna kill your ass anyway, so could you please just give your skanky self up?” Dean wanted to keep her talking long enough for himself or Sam to come up with some brilliant plan.

“I forgot just how charming you could be.” Candy gave him a parody of a sweet smile.

“Oh, I’m just getting started, honey.”

“Dana, are you okay?” Sam asked.

The girl shook her head and sniffled as tears streamed down her face.

“I haven’t harmed her.” Candy informed them. “As a matter of fact, I saved her life. She would’ve been puppy chow just like her two buddies if I hadn’t shown up. I figured she would make the perfect hostage. And I guess I was right since you boys don’t seem willing to shoot through her.”

“You let Chris and that other guy die.” Dana sobbed out. “You just stood there as they… oh god.” She dissolved into tears.

“The hellhounds got into camp?” Dean asked, picturing what the monsters could’ve done to the little kids.

“No.” Sam answered. “Chris convinced Tony and Dana to leave the camp with him. They thought they would make it out of the woods on their own.”

“Freakin’ dumbass! I knew he’d cause trouble, that loud-mouthed bastard.” Dean was frustrated at the whole situation. None of those people were the least bit prepared for any of this and since Dean was the experienced one, he felt like he should’ve seen this coming. Realistically he knew there was nothing he could have done to prevent them from acting out of fear and ignorance, but part of him always blamed himself when civilians got killed on a hunt. 

“Hello, demon standing right here.” Candy sounded annoyed. Good.

“Hello,” Dean mocked her. “We don’t care.”

“Well, you should start caring. Because if you don’t drop your weapons right now, I’m going to snap the little bitch’s neck.”

“The only bitch I see here is you.” Dean shot back. But still, he dropped his gun to the ground as Sam did the same. They weren’t about to press their luck. Besides, while salt would hurt the demon, it wouldn’t kill her.

“Very good. Now step apart.”

“I can’t let go of him.” Sam pointed out. “I’m the only thing supporting him. He can’t stand on his own.”

“Oh well.” Candy shrugged with an evil grin plastered on her face.

Sam carefully lowered Dean to a sitting position before stepping to the right. Candy motioned for the younger Winchester to move further away. After a moment’s hesitation, he did. The demon walked towards Dean, keeping Dana held tightly against her. When she stood behind the injured hunter, Candy pushed the younger girl away and pulled Dean to his feet. She held him up with an arm around his throat and pulled out a knife with her other hand. Dean tried to get his feet under himself to take the weight off of his neck and allow himself to breathe correctly, but the height difference and his injury wouldn’t allow it. Out of the corned of his eye he saw Dana crawling away into the bushes. If Candy’s arm wasn’t cutting off part of his air supply, Dean would’ve breathed out a sigh of relief. The girl was out of danger. 

“Now I think it’s time for Dean Winchester to say goodbye. Any last words?”

“Yeah, I have a whole final moments speech written out, filled with heartfelt goodbyes and other clichés, but I left the paper back in the Impala. Any chance I can go get it?” Dean managed to gasp out.

“Sorry, but that pathetic attempt at humor will have to be you’re final words.”

Dean felt the blade press against his throat, right above where her arm held him in place.

“Wait!” Sam cried out. “You don’t have to kill him. This whole thing is over. You can just go and that will be that.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because if you harm him at all, I will end you.”

Candy laughed. “And just how are you going to do that? You have no weapons and I have all the advantage. I bet you wish you two had never left that little demon-proof sanctuary, huh?”

Dean’s eyes widened at her words. He smiled over at Sam and subtly gestured with his head at the area they’d walked out of moments ago. When Dean saw the recognition on his brother’s face he knew they’d win this thing. At that moment, the injured hunter stopped his struggles against the demon and dropped all of his weight against her arm. She stumbled forward and released him. Dean fell to the ground and rolled into her, causing her to further lose her balance. And that’s when Sam rushed her. From his vantage point on the forest floor, Dean saw his brother grab the demon and pull her away from where he lay. Then Sam punched her twice in the face (which probably wasn’t necessary for their plan to work, but it made Dean smile anyway) and then push her towards the demon free zone. One hard kick to the chest sent her falling back and disappearing from sight. And then the screaming began. The brothers could not see what was happening to her since everything in the safe area was hidden from sight to those outside of it, but from the earsplitting shrieks coming from the demon, Dean guessed that whatever was happening wasn’t pleasant. 

Just then the screams stopped. The older Winchester watched as his brother walked forward and disappeared from view. Dean wanted to join him, but there was no way in hell that he’d be able to stand and the idea of dragging himself over there was just damned unappealing. So the hunter rolled onto his back and tried to get as comfortable as possible while he waited. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dana step out from behind some bushes and approach him. 

“What… what was she?”

“A demon.”

“Is she gone? I mean, for good.”

“Yes.” Sam answered as he came back into view.

“And Candy?” Dean asked.

Sam shook his head sadly. “She didn’t make it. It looks like whatever magic was put into place in that spot burned the demon right out of her, but it was too much for her body. Her eyes were cooked right in their sockets and there was smoke coming from her mouth. Not a pretty sight.”

Dean felt a moment of sadness for the woman. He knew that they had to stop the demons but he always felt bad for the possessed people who died in the battles. Sometimes his job just sucked.

After an awkward moment, Sam spoke again. “So I guess we’re tied one for one on this hunt.”

“No way, dude. Mine was worth more points than yours.”

“How do you figure that? You just took out a guy that sold his soul. I’m the one that defeated the demon.”

“Yeah, but you totally copied me. I pushed the guy out of the circle and you pushed the chick in. No originality at all.”

“But I did it all without getting hurt.” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah, well I ganked the guy behind it all while I was already injured. Besides, I killed way more hellhounds than you.”

Sam sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll give you this one, but only out of pity for your condition.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, you just know that I’m right.”

“Uh, guys?” Dana interrupted. “Can we get out of here? Please.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean agreed.

Sam helped him to his feet and once again put his arm around Dean’s waist. Dean leaned heavily on the taller man as they made their way back to camp. It seemed to be a much longer hike than when he’d ventured out there, and it wasn’t just because they had to take the long way around the steep embankment that he’d fallen down. With the agonizingly slow pace his injuries were creating, it took them the rest of the day to make it back.

As soon as they came into view of the campers, three peopled came running towards them. Kathy and Josh hugged their sister while Ryan wrapped himself around Dean’s legs. Dean swallowed back the pain and patted the child on the head. 

“Oh my god, what happened?” Nicki asked, taking in Dean’s appearance. 

“It’s over.” He replied as Sam helped him to sit down. With nothing in the immediate area to lean against, his younger brother settled down behind him. For once, Dean swallowed his pride and rested against the other man. Of course, if Sam ever mentioned this again, he’d be a dead man. “The hellhounds are gone and they won’t be back.”

“Are you sure?” Josh asked.

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “We’re sure.”

“Then I guess we owe you a rather big ‘thank you’.” Paul informed them, looking over at his three kids.

Dean shrugged. “Hey, it’s what we do.”

“Yeah, Dad.” Ryan added as he curled up in the hunter’s lap. “Dean’s a superhero. He saves people all the time.”

“Yes he does.” Sam concurred. 

It was much too late by that point for them to be able to hike out of the woods, so it was decided that they would need to spend one more night before they could all get the hell out of there. They ate some sandwiches and discussed what they’d tell the authorities when they emerged from the woods the next day.

“Tell ‘em that the superheroes killed the bad hell dogs.” Ryan suggested.

“Nah, we can’t do that.” Dean responded. “The cops might discover my secret identity if we tell them the truth.”

“Oh, no! I don’t want that.”

“Why don’t we just tell them that we were attacked by wolves and you guys fought them off?” Paul proposed.

“We’d rather not be mentioned at all.” Sam informed him.

Nicki smiled at them. “You boys have run into trouble with the police before, huh?”

“Let’s just say that hunting evil sometimes puts us at odds with local law.” Dean commented.

“Well, we’ll figure something out.” Josh assured them as he began to clean up their dinner plates. 

“Something that doesn’t sound like a scary campfire story.” Kathy put in.

“Dude, our whole life is like one hell of a campfire story.” Dean muttered.

As it got dark, a campfire was started and everyone gathered around it. Marshmallows were roasted, songs were sung, and stories were told. Dean relaxed against his brother as he shoved a warm, gooey, and only slightly burned treat into his mouth. He’d survived facing down his biggest fear. His wounds would heal and the scars would fade in time. All in all, it wasn’t the worst camping trip he’d ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for joining me on this ride! I'll be posting a couple short stories and tomorrow I'm going to start my next story 'From Childhood's Hour'. Hope to see you!


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